The Wielder
by slickboy444
Summary: Danny Phantom/Witchblade crossover. The ancient weapon known as Witchblade comes to town and sets its sights on Sam. However, she and Danny find out quickly that the Witchblade carries with it some dangerous enemies. D/S
1. Field Trip

**The Wielder  
Chapter 1: Field Trip**

AN: This a crossover between Danny Phantom and Witchblade. I've combined some features from each and a few details may not be the same. In terms of timeline, this story takes place during season three before Phantom Planet.

'_These mean character thoughts.'_

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom or Witchblade. They are the property of Nickelodeon and Top Cow comics.

Please don't forget to review this story. Send it to me via email at or post it on the fanfiction website. I hope you all like it. Enjoy!

* * *

**Greece – 80 Years Ago**

"Mr. Irons! Mr. Irons! Come quick, we found something!"

Kenneth Irons turned had been waiting a lifetime to hear those words and quickly gave his full attention to the ongoing excavation. He rushed into the pit his crew spent the last several months unearthing. It felt like a lifetime since he found anything meaningful. All too often, these moments were quickly followed with disappointment. But this time felt different.

"What is it?" he asked as he approached the frantic worker.

"You're hunch was right! This could be it!"

The worker summoned help from the others. They quickly gathered around an area not far from the temple base and started chipping away at rock and mud. Their efforts centered on a strange bulge protruding from the earth. Kenneth Irons watched intently as a shape began to emerge. With each inch dug, it became clearer. It was some kind of polished stone chest neatly carved out of granite and marble. The style didn't match that of the temple and it didn't seem as old as the surrounding structures, hinting that it wasn't just another Greek artifact. There were some inscriptions on the top, but they were too worn to make sense of.

Irons anticipation grew. This could very well be what he had dedicated the last ten years of his life searching for. It was a search that began with his father, a renowned archeologist who built a reputation for pursuing relics with supernatural origins. As a boy he told him stories about one artifact in particular that had impacted history all the way back to ancient Egypt. Many believed it to be mere legend, but his father set out to find it. Many mocked his efforts, forcing him into obscurity. But Kenneth believed his father was on to something. Just before his death he believed it was close. Now he was about to finish what he started.

Once the workers had dug deep enough, they stepped back to let him examine it. They watched with great intrigue as the enigmatic man trailed his hand over the inscriptions. The writing looked pretty elaborate and much of it had been weathered by time. But something in them caught Kenneth's attention.

"Get me a crow bar," he ordered.

"But sir, don't you think…"

"NOW!"

The worker didn't argue with his stern tone. One of the workers quickly handed him an iron crow bar, which he eagerly took and began prying at the seal. Nobody said a word. For all they knew this was just another artifact for Iron's collection. Whatever was inside this thing must have meant a lot to him because he had them working for months on end on this site which every other notable archeologist said contained nothing more than old ruins.

Grunting with intent, Irons managed to break the seal on the stone chest. A thick cloud of dust shot out from inside causing a few of the workers to step back. Once the top seal was broken, Kenneth waved away the debris and peered inside. And for the first time in many years, his face came to life.

"It…it's real," he said breathlessly, "My father was right! The artifact is real!"

"What artifact? Are you going to tell us what this is all about?" asked one of the workers impatiently.

"The offspring of the Darkness and the Angelus…the balance between good and evil…the ultimate weapon," mused Irons, "After all these years the Witchblade has been found!"

Reaching into the stone container, Irons pulled out the ancient relic. It resembled a gauntlet with sharp, claw-like fingers and a large red jewel on the top. It had a very alien appearance, consisting of dark colored materials unlike anything he had ever seen. Even though it was thousands of years old there wasn't a hint of wear on it. This had to be it. There was no doubt in his mind.

"Looks like a fancy glove," commented one of the workers.

"Looks can be deceiving," said Irons distantly, "This _glove _has been worn by the likes of Cleopatra and Joan of Arc. With it, they altered the course of human history. And it was all done through a great power that was imparted to the wielder of this relic."

"But that's just a legend, right?"

Kenneth scoffed at such words. If there was one thing his father had taught him it was that legends don't just come from anywhere. There was always some truth to it. Most were bland at best, but some were truly epic. And the Witchblade was one of those legends that was too great to be mere fantasy.

"Mr. Irons?"

"I can feel it's power…" he mused, "Ready and waiting for a new wielder."

With burning intent, Kenneth Irons rolled up his sleeve and revealed yet another surprise to his workers. His right arm was littered with strange marks. They ran from his shoulder all the way down to his wrist, converging around a circular symbol. The workers didn't know what to make of it, but he didn't expect them to know what they were. How could they know anything about magic or runes? They didn't have the kind of knowledge imparted onto him by his father. While the legend of the Witchblade explicitly stated that only women could wield this powerful artifact, he was hoping that with a little help he could get around that.

"Time to put the legend to the test," said Irons with a determined grin.

The workers watched anxiously as he prepared to slip the gauntlet onto his hand. He took deep breaths, anxious to see if the power would accept him. He summoned the energy within the rune on his arm, hoping it would protect him from whatever surprises the Witchblade may hold for him. The workers watched anxiously. Most weren't expecting much, but nothing was ever certain when dealing with Kenneth Irons. If he was anywhere near as crazy as his father, there just might be some truth to this legend.

It was now or never. The power would be his. Placing his trust in the rune, he slipped the gauntlet onto his hand. Immediately, he felt something. But it wasn't what he expected.

"AUGH! WHAT THE?! NO! NOOOOOOOOO!" he exclaimed.

The jewel on the Witchblade came to life and turned blood red. A mysterious energy surrounded Kenneth's body, causing the marks on his arm to glow. The power was surging through him. It was more intense than he ever could have imagined. Suddenly, an agonizing pain shot through his hand and arm. Every nerve was set ablaze. It was as if the relic was eating his flesh.

"Let's get out of here!" exclaimed one of the workers.

"Run! Run! Don't look back!"

"That…that thing is a tool of the devil!"

Kenneth fell to the ground as his workers abandoned him, leaving him alone in a world of pain. The exotic material of the Witchblade came to life, shifting and convulsing in a strange way. It was like a living thing, trying to spit out something it didn't like. As much as Irons wanted the power, he couldn't hold onto it and the Witchblade made sure he paid the price for tempting a power he did not understand.

"ERRRAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" he howled as he finally managed to get the gauntlet off.

Gasping in agony, he looked down to see a pool of his own blood forming in the dirt. He then looked up his arm to see that the Witchblade had actually severed his hand and part of his arm. All that was left now was a bleeding stub, but the symbols were still glowing. Whatever power had come from the Witchblade, it reacted with the spell that was supposed to protect him. Now his mind was a jumbled mess of pain and madness. He looked at the relic with a mix of twisted hate.

"I…I won't be denied. I will have the power! I WILL HAVE IT!"

* * *

**Amity Park – Present Day**

It was a beautiful day in downtown Amity Park. The sun was shining and for once there were no ghosts attacking. It was a pleasant change from the usual chaos and it came at the perfect time. A crowd had gathered just outside the museum of natural history. Among them included the students of Casper High School, who were there on a field trip to witness what their teacher Mr. Lancer boasted was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Of course, it was never as exciting as he made it out to be.

In addition, it was another opportunity for Mayor Vlad Masters to bolster his image. Having already taken a hit from incidents like the Vortex fiasco, he needed a bump in approval rating. So he organized a little media event involving a special ceremony for a limited time museum exhibit, courtesy of an old friend. He did his usual routine, making flashy speeches and smiling for the cameras as he spoke about the importance of this exhibit. But of course, he had other reasons for going through with this.

"And so it gives me great pleasure to open the doors of the Amity Park Museum of Natural History to you, my beloved citizens. Please take the time to enjoy the rare and unique collection of Mr. Kenneth Irons, the finest collector in ancient artifacts of our time. But enjoy them now because they'll be on display for a limited time only. Thank you."

The half-ghost, half-mayor bowed to his audience as they applauded. It was a typical response, one he had grown very good at manipulating for his benefit. Some, however, didn't clap because they knew full well that Vlad's image as the beloved mayor was all a farce.

"Can you believe they still clap for him?" said Danny Fenton bitterly, "You'd think they'd be tired of him by now."

"He's a slimy billionaire/politician in a clueless public. What did you expect?" shrugged Samantha Manson.

"I know. I should be used to it by now. I just don't get how anybody could still believe him."

Then from the streets, a familiar obnoxious figure in an orange jumpsuit wearing a 'Victory for the V-man' T-shirt chanted through a speaker.

"Way to go Vladdie! Let's here it for the V-man! Give me a V!"

Jack Fenton looked around for support, but he only got awkward stares. In the crowd Danny lowered his head and covered his face. The world had a sick sense of humor for making his father an old friend and a big supporter of his greatest enemy.

"That answer your question?" said Tucker Foley.

"Oh man," groaned Danny.

Danny Fenton had some luck. Here he was, Danny Phantom, the protector of Amity Park from all things ghostly, and his greatest enemy was mayor. When he began his ghost hunting activities it was hard enough. First everybody thought he was a menace and even his own parents tried to hunt him. Then he found out his dad's old college buddy, Vlad Masters, was also half-ghost and held a grudge against his family and had a crush on his mom. He still gagged whenever he thought about it. Only he and his friends knew the truth behind Vlad's deception. Not only was he stronger, he didn't use his powers so nobly. And ever since he became mayor, his job had become more difficult.

"Hey, look on the bright side. At least we got out of class," said Tucker, trying to support his friend while also trying hard not to laugh.

"I'd almost prefer a math test to listening to that," he said pointing back towards his father.

"Somebody's gonna give me a V!" said a frustrated Jack.

"Well he's driven. You gotta give him that," joked Sam.

"Whatever," groaned Danny, "Let's just get this over with. Maybe something in the Irons collection will help take my mind off this."

Danny and his friends followed his class into the front doors. Jack kept chanting, but few took notice except those who pointed and laughed. Among them was Dash and Kwan, who made sure the lingering embarrassment stuck with Danny even as they entered the building. Mr. Lancer, taking on his usual role as the uptight administrator, directed everybody inside using a bullhorn. Nobody seemed too excited about this trip, but that never stopped him before.

"Move along people! The wonders of the ancient world await!" announced Lancer in an overly dramatic tone.

"Big whoop," said Dash, "It's just some rich guys collection of old toys."

"Yeah, I'd rather go on a trip to the fireworks factory!" said Kwan.

"Enough!" said Lancer, "Keep it moving! These artifacts won't be here forever."

While the crowds filed in, Vlad made his way back to his limo. Along the way he shook a few hands and smiled for the cameras as was customary of mayors. He always found it amazing how eagerly the public ate this stuff up, but if it got his approval ratings up he could care less.

Once inside his limo, he was greeted by Kenneth Irons. He bore his usual stoic expression, not paying much attention to Vlad's pandering. Irons was not a man who was easily swayed by charisma. He was always stern and focused. It helped him become a multi-billionaire, but did little for his social life. But he knew better than most people that Kenneth had his reasons for being reserved and they had nothing to do with his personality.

"Are you done gravelling, Masters?" said Kenneth impatiently.

"Don't think of it as gravelling, old friend. Think of it more as maintenance," said Vlad, "The public has a certain image of their mayor and if I'm to be a successful public figure I must do everything I can to maintain that image."

"Even if it includes mindless events like these?"

"Oh quit your bellyaching! You're the one who wanted as many people as possible to go through your exhibit. I needed something to get my approval rating up. As far as I'm concerned, we both win."

Kenneth rolled his eyes. Vlad was nothing if not an opportunist. He would use anything to further his agenda. He knew nothing of subtlety or cunning. He swore one day that would be his undoing.

"So what's next?" asked Vlad, "When do I get to see this artifact you've been obsessing over for the last 100 years?"

"We'll start testing tonight," said Kenneth, "But before that, I must see if anybody in this miniscule town gets a reaction from the Witchblade. If there's a wielder around here it should let us know."

"Sounds like a waste of time to me. Refresh my memory, how many times have you displayed this relic publicly and gotten no reaction?"

"2,623 times," he answered without hesitation, "And I'm starting to get impatient."

"You should talk. You have more time on your hands than most people," commented Vlad, "One would think you'd find more practical uses for immortality."

"Keep your voice down!" said Kenneth sternly, "I don't need your public cronies to uncover my secret anymore than you need them to uncover your secret about being half-ghost! As far as the rest of the world is concerned I'm Kenneth Irons Jr., son of two famed archeologists and Fortune Magazines Entrepreneur of the Year and you're Vlad Masters, you're everyday billionaire turned mayor."

Vlad fell silent. Irons was never afraid to remind him of the unique connection they shared. He knew about him being half-ghost and he knew about him having supernatural powers. Because of that, they had an unspoken agreement to keep each others' secrets in exchange for mutual favors. It also made it so they couldn't double cross one another because if one revealed the other's secret, there was no doubt that the other would do the same. In some respects it was annoying because Vlad liked to be the one with the advantage, but around Irons his ghost powers were as useful as a paperclip.

The feeling was mutual for Kenneth. Looking down at his arm, he saw the mark left on his wrist from the fateful day he tried to wield Witchblade. The relic reacted with the rune that was supposed to protect him, causing some of the power to be imparted on him. That power gave him enhanced human attributes including strength, intelligence, and awareness. It also made it so he didn't age normally. He still looked as young as he did the day he found the Witchblade. It even healed his hand, but not without leaving a nasty scar.

"I'll make sure I hold up my end of the bargain," sighed Vlad, "I'll use my ghost equipment to unlock the Witchblade's power so long as you do your part and allow me unlimited access to the rest of your artifacts."

"If your machines do what you say they'll do, you can have my entire collection for all I care," said Irons, "The only artifact that means anything to me is the Witchblade."

"Fine by me," shrugged Vlad, "Although I still don't understand how some fancy gauntlet can be so powerful that you'd spend a lifetime obsessing over it."

"You don't have to understand, Masters. You just have to do your part."

The two men fell silent as the limo pulled out of the museum parking lot and headed back towards City Hall where Vlad was busy getting his equipment set up. Kenneth took one last look at the museum where his Witchblade was currently being displayed. He never liked putting it out in the open where someone could potentially steal it, but his only hope at unlocking its power was to find the chosen wielder. Even though Vlad was confident he could get around that pesky rule, Kenneth insisted on covering all the bases.

Who knows? This town was already famous for having ghosts. Maybe somewhere in this unassuming town the next wielder of Witchblade could be walking around. And if she was here, Kenneth Irons was ready to do whatever was necessary to ensure that he would control this power and nobody else.

* * *

**Inside The Museum**

Dozens poured through the museum halls, looking over the vast array of exhibits while teachers and tour guides told the elaborate tales behind the artifacts. Some were genuinely interested. Kenneth Irons had a knack for finding elaborately crafted artifacts, but most saw them as just another flashy gimmick. They were nowhere near as interesting as people like Mr. Lancer made them out to be.

"And to your left is the stunning display of the legendary Tokugawa Katanas!" said Lancer, still using his bullhorn to guide the students along, "Legends says that these swords contained mystical powers that allowed the Tokugawa dynasty to thrive for over 200 years in Japan."

"Looks like a bunch of oversized butter-knives," commented Dash.

"I'd be careful if I were you," said Lancer snidely, "Legends also say that anybody who disrespects the swords will face an untimely end. So please show some respect for history."

Dash scoffed while the rest of the class moved on with the exhibit. Danny, Sam, and Tucker lingered a bit to take note of the elaborate displays.

"Man, whoever this Irons guy is he has some expensive tastes," commented Danny, "Why would anybody need jewels on samurai armor?"

"Must be a rich guy thing," shrugged Tucker, "I can't image what kind of car the guy must drive. It must be kickin!"

"Probably a useless show of upper class snobbery as well," said Sam cynically.

"Hey, you should talk," joked Danny, "Aren't your parents rich too?"

"Don't remind me. At least this guy spends his money on something worthwhile."

"You think all these dusty old artifacts are worthwhile?" said Tucker.

"Compared to spending money on a 20 silk dresses imported from Korea, yeah," said Sam.

"Wow, a dozen?" said Danny as they started walking with the class, "What were they going to do throw their own masquerade ball?"

"Bingo. And guess who they want to dress up for it."

"Ouch," said Tucker, "Oh well, could be worse."

"Yeah right," scoffed Sam.

The three friends kept walking, but Sam's mood didn't get any better. She had never been one to support events sponsored by other rich people. As far as she was concerned, they were a total waste of time when all that money could be put to better uses. Kenneth Irons may not be the worst in gathering all these historical relics, but it still wasn't enough in her eyes.

Danny yawned, already bored as Lancer stopped to talk about some Greek statute. How one man could get excited about a statue was beyond him. Tucker kept himself occupied by playing some games on his PDA. Sam, however, began to wander. She didn't see how Mr. Lancer could make these relics interesting so she decided to see some of this stuff for herself. Danny and Tucker didn't seem interested, but being into goth she had an appreciation for certain relics. And some of the displays caught her interest.

She soon found herself wandering into an area the tours hadn't gotten to yet. It wasn't as elaborate as the others, but was positioned in an area that ensured everybody would pass by it at some point. On the surrounding walls were portraits of famous historical figures. Sam didn't recognize most of them, but she noticed they were all female. Some like Joan of Arc and Cleopatra she recognized, but these portraits didn't look like anything she saw in history textbooks.

"This guy must have a thing for women of the ages," mused Sam.

As Sam looked around, her eyes fell upon the center of the room. There in a secure glass case surrounded by velvet rope was a strange looking artifact. It looked like some sort of gauntlet, but none like she had ever seen before. It wasn't some rusted piece of metal once worn by some long-dead warrior. In fact, it didn't have an ounce of wear on it. It seemed out of place for an exhibit displaying ancient artifacts.

"Hmm…wonder what this is?"

There was no label identifying it. There was nothing around to hint at what it was or where it came from. But for some reason, Sam was drawn to it. Maybe it was because it has this macabre look to it, like some sort of demon gauntlet or something. But there was more to it. It was almost as if it was calling out to her.

Standing just behind the velvet rope, she reached out to touch the glass casing. She didn't even realize what she was doing, almost as if this _thing _had her in some kind of daze. Suddenly, the red jewel on the gauntlet came to life, flashing a bright yellowish color. Then it started to shake violently almost as if it were alive. And if she wasn't mistaken, it was attracted to her.

"What the…"

"Sam! Hey Sam!" Danny called out.

Abruptly snapping out of her daze, she turned to Danny and then back to the relic. But to her surprise, the glowing and shaking stopped. It was as if the relic never even moved.

"Sam, come on!" urged Danny, "Lancer's moving on to the next exhibit!"

"Uh right," she said, not taking her eyes off the relic, "I'll be right there."

She took one last look at the relic, hoping to see something that would show she hadn't just imagined the whole thing. But nothing happened. It just stood there in the glass, the mysterious hold it had on her never waning. Shaking it off, Sam finally tore herself away and ran off to catch up with her friends.

"You okay?" asked Danny, sensing she was a little distant.

"I'm fine," she told him, "I just thought…never mind."

"If you say so," he shrugged.

Sam stuck close to Danny, feeling somewhat freaked out by what just happened. She didn't usually get this anxious. Hanging around ghosts and helping Danny gave her a high tolerance for the strange. But something about that gauntlet relic stood out. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she set it aside for now. The last thing she wanted was to add more weirdness into her life.

But her moment with the relic didn't go unnoticed. Watching from the shadows was a shady figure with long black hair wearing a trench coat. He was Ian Nottingham, a trusted confidante of Kenneth Irons who used his unique 'talents' to perform tasks for his master. Often those tasks had questionable legality, but this was one of his more menial jobs. Whenever the Witchblade went on display, it was his job to watch it. And if anybody tried to steal it they would face the blunt end of his swords. For the most part it was a boring job that he despised doing, but it had suddenly taken an interesting twist.

He didn't know the Witchblade as well as Ian, but he knew a reaction when he saw it. He was certain his master would be intrigued so he took out his cell phone and called him.

"_What is it, Ian? I'm busy."_

"Master, it's the Witchblade. It…it reacted to somebody," said Ian.

"_Reacted? To who?"_

"Some girl here on a school field trip," he said, "Couldn't have been older than 14."

"_14? Are you sure?"_

"I saw it move with my own eyes. I'm positive."

Over the line, Kenneth Irons took a moment to digest this new development. Never in a million years would he expect to get a reaction from the Witchblade at Amity Park of all places. Fate it seemed wasn't without a sense of humor. But the timing was perfect. If a wielder was close that could only benefit his chances of unlocking its power. Hopefully Vlad's equipment would do the rest.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Ian.

"_Follow her. Don't let her out of your sights, but stay incognito. We may need her."_

"Yes master. But I find it hard to believe a girl like her would be the wielder to a power as great as the Witchblade."

"_Looks can be deceiving, Ian. See what you can find out about her and call me every hour with an update. I'll send a courier to retrieve the Witchblade, but be ready at a moment's notice."_

"Yes, master," said Ian.

Upon hanging up his phone, Ian slipped into the shadows and began trailing the young woman. If he heard right her name was Sam, which he assumed was short for Samantha or something. His special skills allowed him to catch up quickly. Once she was in sight he maintained a safe distance from her so she would be none the wiser. She still didn't look like much of a wielder, but it was not his right to question his master. If this girl elicited any other strange reactions he wouldn't hesitate to take her down. Besides, she was just a teenage girl. How tough could she be?

* * *

**Up next: Vlad's experiments on the Witchblade lead to an unexpected result.**


	2. Experiments

**The Wielder  
Chapter 2: Experiments**

* * *

**Amity Park Mall – Late Afternoon**

"Little whelp! Hold still so I can shoot you!" shouted Skulker as he hovered over the food court.

"Ugh! Does anybody actually fall for that?" groaned Danny.

"You'd be surprised, Ghost Boy."

It was official. The afternoon was a total bust. After they got back from the field trip, Danny and his friends decided to hang out at the mall and maybe get some food at the Nasty Burger later. It was supposed to be a nice, normal Friday afternoon for a not-so-normal life. But Skulker just had to show up and test out his latest weapon system.

It turned out to be pretty destructive. It was a shoulder-mounted net launcher with a twist. The nets it fired had concentrated ecto-energy that sent painful shocks to whoever it captured, especially other ghosts. And when it didn't hit anybody, it had the added side effect of blowing up. They found this out the hard way when he showed up while they were eating ice cream and talking about the trip. It was enough to cause everybody in the area to flee. Before long, Skulker destroyed a fountain and destroyed a couple of stores and he wasn't showing any signs of letting up.

"Danny, incoming at twelve-a-clock!" yelled Tucker.

"Oh man…"

Another ecto-charged net was coming straight for him. He quickly went intangible and slipped into the floor just as it impacted a display of electronics outside a tech store. Upon impact, the explosion took out much of the area.

"Noooooooooo!" exclaimed Tucker, "You monster! Don't you have any respect for high end gadgets?!"

Skulker just looked at him oddly and turned his new weapon on him. If there was one thing he hated more than pestilent prey, it was annoying humans. Tucker, seemed to get the message.

"I respect only the hunt," said the skilled ghost hunter.

"Me and my big mouth," groaned Tucker.

Tucker started running, but he was already in Skulker's sights. Grinning to himself, he fired another ecto-net. It was right on target and should easily silence his annoying comments. But just before it hit, Sam jumped in and shoved Tucker off to the side. The net only impacted a garbage can, but the explosion was close enough to send them flying into a pile of chairs and tables.

"Ugh!" groaned Sam, struggling to pick herself up, "You and your big mouth!"

"Thanks for the reminder," said Tucker, who was equally demoralized.

Skulker was disappointed with the result, but that was nothing another blast couldn't fix. He was sure that if he kept blasting at these two, his prey would show up and come to their aid. It was just like holding out bait. No target could resist when it was attacked at its most vulnerable point.

"Allow me to silence it…permanently," grinned Skulker, preparing for another shot.

"Anytime Danny!" exclaimed Tucker.

Right on cue, Danny shot up from the ground and flew up towards Skulker at full speed. He could handle being the target, but not his friends.

"Hey Skulker! Leave them out of this! It's me you want!" shouted Danny.

"About time you showed up again," said Skulker, turning his sights back on his prey, "Let's end this!"

He fired another round of ecto-nets. This time Danny was able to dodge them and get in position to return fire. He attacked with some ecto-blasts of his own, but Skulker was able to avoid them. He maintained the high ground like a good hunter should, keeping him on the run as he tried to lead his sights away from his friends so they could get away. But he couldn't run forever. He had to stop Skulker before he blew up every store in the mall. Then nobody would have anywhere to unwind on a Friday afternoon.

"Ha! Hope that thing came with a warranty!" taunted Danny, "Doesn't look like you got your money's worth!"

"It'll be worth every red cent once I have your pelt on my wall!"

He fired another ecto-net. Danny dodged this one too, only this one didn't explode on impact. Instead, it got caught on a plant near another fountain. Seeing his opportunity, Danny acted on an impulse and sprang into action. He leaped out from behind the plant, grabbed the net just as it was ready to explode, and threw it up at Skulker. The bewildered hunter didn't have time to react. Before he could go intangible, the net surrounded his armor.

"What?! On no!" he exclaimed.

As expected, the ecto-net exploded. Skulkers armor didn't stand a chance. His imposing form blew apart into a burst of twisted metal. His high-tech ghost hunting gear was reduced to scrap, leaving only the head with the tiny ghost that was Skulker's true form inside.

"Ooh," grimaced Danny, "Now I bet he REALLY wish he kept the receipt."

He walked over to the pile of debris and pulled out the head. The little ghost was still kicking and screaming, trying to fight his target even though he was practically powerless.

"You little pest! I swear I'll have your head! You hear me? I'll have your…"

But his threats were abruptly silenced as the energy from the Fenton Thermos sucked him in, sealing him away for his inevitable return to the ghost zone. Sam was the one who stepped in, retrieving her thermos from her backpack shortly after picking herself up from the last blast. She was still pretty sore, clutching the arm she had been holding the thermos in. Being caught in the middle of an ecto-blast and being flung into a pile of chairs and tables wasn't as fun as it sounded.

"Thanks Sam," said Danny as he powered down, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she groaned, "Nothing some band-aids and aspirin won't cure."

He helped her stay upright, allowing her to lean on him. It seemed worse than she let on, but Sam was a tough girl. She never let her pain show. It still bothered Danny to no end. He hated it whenever his friends got hurt in the middle of a fight. Even though they helped him by choice and knew the risks, it always wore heavy on his conscious whenever they came away with bruises.

"Sorry I wasn't quicker back there," he said in a low tone.

"Don't be. It's not our fault we don't have super powers," said Sam, managing a smile.

"If I could share mine, believe me I would. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Danny…really."

"Then why are you still leaning on me?"

Sam didn't have a response for that. Her only reaction was to blush in embarrassment and abruptly pull away. Danny blushed too. It was yet another incident where they got caught up in moment together. Emotions started flaring up and feelings came with them. It had been happening with more frequency lately. A lot of people were quick to point it out, never hesitating to call them love-birds or something. They always denied it, but lately that was becoming increasingly difficult.

"Uh hello? You two done?" said Tucker, who was also a bit nicked up, but not as much as Sam.

"What? Done? We weren't…you know," stammered Danny.

"Whatever dude," said Tucker, rolling his eyes, "Let's just get out of here before they make us clean all this mess up."

Taking his advice, the three friends gathered up their stuff and made their leave. It felt as though they should be used to these surprise attacks by now, but there was no getting used to the property damage aspect. With every fight, Danny's enemies upped the firepower. Even with all his ghost powers, it felt like he was falling behind. Either they would have to wait for his parents to develop better weapons or find new ways of keeping his enemies at bay.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker thought it was over for now. The authorities had already arrived and were taking care of things like they always did. Nobody seemed suspicious of them. However, their little escapade had not gone unnoticed.

Ian Nottingham needed a moment to digest what he just saw. He had seen some pretty amazing things in his days, but this ranked right up there. He knew Amity Park had a reputation for ghost attacks, but he never thought he'd see one this close. It was quite a scene and it revealed some intriguing information about his target and her friends.

"So the girl is friends with the ghost boy…and may be a little more," mused Ian, "She might just be an appropriate wielder after all."

Sticking to the shadows, Ian continued his observation. This girl was more interesting than he expected. He would be sure to relay this information to his master, but one thing was for certain. If this Danny Phantom got involved in their affairs, he could be a problem.

* * *

**City Hall – Basement**

Evening turned to night as Kenneth Irons waited impatiently for Vlad to finish his initial round of tests. Once he got word from Ian that the Witchblade had reacted to somebody, he immediately sent one of his body guards to retrieve it. In less than a half-hour, it was in his hands and awaiting study. Vlad didn't even take time to calibrate his machines before he got started. Kenneth was an impatient man and if he wanted to use all those ancient goodies he had collected over the years he had to deliver. And besides, he couldn't help but be a little curious about this Witchblade as well.

He started with a simple scan. One of the devices he had shipped from his mansion back in Wisconsin was an ecto-analyzer. It was similar to the device he used to scan Danny when he tried to clone him, only this one had to be calibrated to scan for more than just ecto-energy. If this Witchblade had the kind of power Irons said it had, then it was sure to show up differently.

As the machine did its thing, scanning over the gauntlet with a green laser, Kenneth watched in anticipation. Master's machines were unlike anything he had ever seen before. He knew next to nothing about ghost hardware, but as long as it delivered he could care less.

"So what's the verdict, Masters? This contraption of yours pick up anything?" asked Irons.

A stream of data showed up on the computer screen and Vlad looked over it.

"Hmm…interesting," he said, "Most of the scan revealed nothing more than a lifeless hunk of metal and rock, but there is some strange energy residue. And if I'm reading this right (and I know I am) it's recent."

"Then Ian was right. That girl must have activated its power," said Kenneth with renewed interest, "Can you use the residue to activate it again?"

"That's what this next test is for. If there is energy within this relic as you say there is, a little ecto-infusion should bring it to life," said Vlad confidently.

"Good, but not too much," warned Kenneth, "The Witchblade is an unstable power. There's no telling what it might do."

"Oh relax, old friend. I've taken every precaution."

Vlad seemed pretty sure of himself. Kenneth still didn't whole-heartedly trust all this ghost equipment and he trusted Vlad even less. But he had no choice. With a potential wielder identified, he had to claim the power soon or it would be lost to a less deserving soul. He spent a lifetime trying to unlock the power of this relic and he wasn't about to lose it to some punk teenage girl.

Vlad took the gauntlet and placed it on a table set up in the center of the room. Irons stepped back as Vlad positioned it under what he called the ecto-fuser. This device was originally designed to infuse ecto-energy into a host in order to augment ghost attributes. He thought he could use it to enhance his powers, but he never could quite work the kinks out. But thanks to the resources Irons generously donated, he was able to develop it into a new kind of device. Only instead of fusing extra ecto-energy into a ghost, this device would fuse it into an inanimate object to release any supernatural energy that resided within it. At least that's what it was supposed to do in theory.

It was an imposing device. The main apparatus was shaped like an antenna with an end that looked like an oversized ray gun. The bulk of the components were run on a series of computer panels that ran on cells of ecto-energy. The amount of data it had to process was staggering as well. Infusing ecto-energy was a daunting task and required so much power the lights flickered, making Irons all the more weary of this experiment.

"I'd put some goggles on if I were you," warned Vlad, "We're in for quite a treat."

"We'll see," said Kenneth.

The two men put on protective eyewear as the machine powered up. Kenneth watched intently while Vlad calibrated the power settings. The tip of the device was already glowing, gathering energy in preparation for the infusion process. Vlad made sure the settings were low. If this thing had the kind of power Kenneth said it did, it was probably better to underpower it than overpower it.

"Here we go," announced Vlad, "The infusion process will commence in 3…2…1."

A powerful burst filled the room as a brilliant flash of greenish/blue light shot forth from the main apparatus. It was so bright even the goggles weren't enough to block out the glare. The two men were forced to look away as the energy surged through the Witchblade. There was no telling what this process would do to it. To Kenneth, it seemed pretty intense for what was supposed to be a low power setting. But there was no turning back now. All either of them could do was wait and see if this ancient power would be unlocked.

After about ten seconds of ecto-fusing, the brilliant light show ceased and the main apparatus powered down. The constant humming sound of the machine remained, but the process was done. Upon removing their goggles, Kenneth Irons and Vlad Masters eagerly awaited the results. But for all the high tech equipment, nothing seemed to come of it. While the table was visibly damaged from the process, the Witchblade remained intact and unchanged.

"That it?" scoffed Irons, "All these amazing machines and all you can do with them is put on some third rate light show?"

"Give it a moment," grumbled Vlad, holding his tongue from his coarse tone, "The ecto-energy needs time to work."

"How are we supposed to know?" said Irons as he walked up to the table, "For all I know you just…"

But Irons was abruptly cut off when the Witchblade began to shake. Both he and Vlad froze as the watched the ancient relic, uncertain of what this meant. They watched as the jewel on the top of the wrist came to life. It glowed with the distinct greenish hue of ecto-energy, indicating to Vlad that the procedure had worked.

"You were saying?" grinned Vlad snidely.

"I stand corrected," said Kenneth, a sinister grin forming on his face.

Irons approached the table, anxious to see what this relic could do now that its power had been activated. He was no expert on ecto-energy, but if it allowed him to tap into this power he spent a lifetime searching for he could care less.

"You can thank me later," said Vlad in a triumphant poise, "Just leave the keys to your collection on your way out."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Masters," said Kenneth as he reached for the Witchblade, "We still have to…"

Suddenly, the gauntlet came to life and two tentacle-like appendages shot out from the fingertips and grabbed Iron's by the arm.

"What the-augh!"

But before he could process what was going on, he was effortlessly lifted off the floor and flung across the room. He slammed right up against the sensitive computer array, knocking over the console and breaking several screens.

"My machines!" exclaimed Vlad.

The sound of expensive equipment crumbling under the weight of the eccentric billionaire was the last thing he wanted to hear. And the Witchblade wasn't done yet. The glowing on the wrist intensified as more tendrils shot out from the gauntlet, whipping wildly around the room and destroying anything it touched. Glass, computers, and various debris were shattered or dented. Vlad was forced to shift into his Plasmius form and create an ecto-shield from the debris.

"You meddlesome excuse for a lawn ornament! You'll pay for that!" he exclaimed.

"Vlad wait!" exclaimed Kenneth.

But of course, Vlad didn't listen. He fired a concentrated ghost ray at the raging relic, only to have it deflected by a ruby-colored shield it formed in a half-second flat. The ray in turn destroyed more equipment, further infuriating Plasmius. He could take being outsmarted by Danny Phantom and even his idiot father, but he could NOT take disrespect from some ancient artifact.

"You little…" he began.

Then the gauntlet leapt up from the table and grasped Vlad by the face. The half-ghost stumbled backwards, tumbling over a table that had yet more expensive hardware that was now destined for the scrap heap.

"Ack! Get it off! Get this…this thing off!" he exclaimed.

Kenneth grunted as he picked himself up from the mess. Vlad's machines were officially wrecked, but he didn't give a damn about them. He had worked too hard for the Witchblade to slip away now.

"Grab it! Don't let it get away!" exclaimed Kenneth.

"I'm…trying!"

The Witchblade had a powerful grip. Vlad could actually feel it tugging on his face. It was as if this thing had a mind of its own. He got the feeling it actually knew what he just tried to do to it and this was its way of expressing disapproval.

The jewel on the wrist shifted from green to yellow. And while it maintained a firm grip on Vlad's face, it sent a paralyzing surge of energy through him that even his ghost form couldn't resist.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" he yelled as he fell to the ground, de-powering in the process.

As Vlad collapsed to the floor, the Witchblade let go and landed on its fingers. Using them as mini-legs, the ancient relic recalled the tendrils it had shot out and started scurrying away from what it felt were unpleasant surroundings.

"Oh no you don't!" yelled Irons as he attempted to block its path.

But the Witchblade wouldn't have it. The jewel atop the wrist glowed again and shot a beam of energy that hit Irons point blank, sending him flying back against the wall. A normal man would have been knocked out instantly or even killed, but thanks to his enhanced features he was only down for the count. But it was more than enough time for the Witchblade to run down the hall, blow a hole through a reinforced door, and climb up the stairs.

"Ungh," groaned Irons, his head throbbing after a blow like that, "That piece of…"

Grunting hard, he picked himself up off the floor and ran after it. He ignored Vlad, who was out cold and lying face down on the floor. He couldn't let his prized relic get away. He had worked too hard for too long to let it slip through his fingers now. There was no way he was going to spend another lifetime searching for it again.

Following the path of destruction that the Witchblade left in its wake, he reached the ground floor of City Hall. It was dark and nobody was around since Vlad let everybody leave early so they could do their experiments in secret. He looked around the main lobby and the adjacent offices. At first he didn't see anything. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw something in the office to his right.

He limped over to the area and found claw marks in the carpet, a clear sign that the Witchblade had been here. Then he looked up and saw that a window had been blow out, most likely shattered by another energy blast. It was confirmation of what he hoped he wouldn't find. The Witchblade, it seemed, was smarter than he thought. It not only fought them off, it escaped. Now it was out there somewhere in Amity Park, alive and no doubt searching for its wielder.

"The power…," he said in breathless pant, "You will not escape me, Witchblade! I swear I'll find you! Wherever you are I'll find you!"

* * *

**Sam's House**

Sam arrived back home just after sunset. Her parents were busy watching that lame show, Extreme Nanny Makeover. Why they watched trash like that she would never know. She said hi anyways and they said hi back, asking the usual questions and getting the usual answers. Naturally, she left out the incident at the mall, saying she just hung out with friends. They seemed to buy it or were too caught up in their TV show to care. She groaned as she dragged herself upstairs, passing her grandmother along the way.

"How was your afternoon, Sammy-girl?" she asked in her aged voice.

"Oh the usual…boring but exhausting."

"Ha, exhausting?" the old lady scoffed, "In my day we raced trains for fun! That'll get you real sore. Oh the stories I could tell you."

"Maybe later, Grandma. I'm not in a story-telling mood," said Sam, "Right now I'm all for a hot bath and a couple days of uninterrupted sleep."

Sam barely made it to her room. She didn't even have the strength to kick her boots off as she collapsed on her bed and let out a deep sigh. With all the ghost battles she got caught up in, she thought she would have been used to this sort of thing by now. But every fight brought a new challenge and a new definition of exhaustion. She was usually pretty good about keeping herself from getting too caught up in the action, but every now and then she needed a reminder that she wasn't the one with the super powers. And soreness like this was a pretty good way to refresh her memory.

As she laid on her bed, staring off into space Sam's mind wandered. Her thoughts drifted towards the moment she had with Danny back in the mall. Her usual inclination was to write it off as just another one of those times they got caught up in the heat of battle, but they had been happening so frequently lately she wasn't so sure anymore. First there was Ember, then there was the Desiree debacle, then there was their infamous fake-out-make-out, and of course there was the Nocturne incident where they actually dreamed they were boyfriend and girlfriend. It was getting harder to deny that something wasn't there. She just wasn't sure what to make of it.

Danny had always been special to her. They grew up together and had always been the best of friends. But things changed as they grew older and they changed in ways she didn't expect. She really felt something for Danny and it wasn't just friendly affection. She was beginning to contemplate the real possibility that she might be falling in love with him. But that was too much to process at this point. They had enough going on with fighting ghosts and saving the world.

"_I'm gonna drive myself crazy thinking about this stuff. So what if you think of Danny more than a friend? Why should we risk what we have now for something we don't even know will work? It's simpler this way…I guess."_

Her head was still pounding and her arm was still sore. A nasty bruise had already formed and would probably need to be bandaged up for a while. Letting out another sigh, she dragged herself out of bed and retreated to her bathroom where she drew a hot bath. She also lit some of her many incense candles that she recently bought from her favorite goth supplies shop. Hopefully this would help her relax and null some of the soreness.

* * *

**Outside**

Shortly after breaking out of City Hall, the Witchblade crawled along the streets on its fingers at a rapid pace. The ecto-energy that had been fused within was only temporary and the primitive consciousness within had only a narrow window to act. Its purpose was simple. It had to find its rightful wielder. Two unfit souls attempted to usurp its power. It could not allow such transgressions since it would disrupt the balance it was created to protect. It would only be safe in the hands of its rightful wielder and it already had identified a fitting soul.

The image of the girl known as Samantha Manson was imprinted on its consciousness. It sensed in her a fitting vessel. Her soul was not corrupted, but not overly pure either. She had the instinct of a fighter who was willing to put her well-being on the line for what she believed in. That along with a host of other reasons it was too basic to understand sealed its fate and hers.

After crawling along the sidewalk for a while, the Witchblade sprouted two tendrils and latched onto a truck that happened to pass by. It rode on the back, following the imprint of its wielder through the streets of Amity Park. It leapt from vehicle to vehicle, navigating its way through the traffic until it reached the vicinity of its wielder. Getting off at the right place was a bit tricky. The truck had been moving fast and when it tried to leap off it landed in a garbage can. But the ancient relic would not be dissuaded. Upon pulling itself out, it scurried into the alley before casual onlookers could see it.

The wielder was close now. The Witchblade could feel it. She resided somewhere within these walls. Nothing would keep it from her now. The fingers on the gauntlet sharpened and it latched onto the brick wall. From there it started climbing up to the top floor where Sam's room was. The ecto-energy was fading fast. The ancient weapon had to move swiftly or risk becoming inanimate before it was in the proper hands.

* * *

**Sam's Room**

After spending a half-hour soaking in her bath tub, Sam came out of her bathroom a bit less sore, but still very tired. Upon drying her hair, she put on her sleeping clothes, which consisted of an undersized T-shirt and some cotton sleeping pants. She also put a few bandages on her arm and leg. She would probably have to avoid sleeping on her side tonight if she was to feel any better in the morning. Thankfully, tomorrow was Saturday and barring any further ghost attacks she should have time to heal.

"What a day…" she groaned as she collapsed onto her bed, "Raging ghost hunters, weird museum displays, and a new round of bruises…all I need now is an alien invasion and I'll have a full-blown breakdown."

Letting out a deep sigh, Sam slipped under her sheets and closed her eyes. It had been a long day and she was ready for a good night sleep. Hopefully tomorrow would give her time to recover, but when it came to fighting ghosts rest was a luxury and there was no telling what could happen next.

As Sam quickly dozed off, the Witchblade had reached her window. It clawed its way up and now that it had her in its sights it yearned to bond with her. At first it tried tapping on the glass, but Sam didn't respond. She was too out of it to notice. But the Witchblade easily got around this barrier by forming two tendrils that effortlessly opened the window, allowing it to crawl in.

The sudden breeze of cool air caused Sam to shift in her bed. She was still oblivious to the approaching intruder, which now had her square in its sights. The power of the Witchblade yearned to be free, but it could only do so if it was attached to a wielder. The ecto-energy that allowed it to move was almost out. Its movements slowed as it struggled to get closer. It slowly clawed into the sheets, inching its way up. But just as it was about to climb on top of the bed with her, it ran out of ecto-energy and fell to the floor with a thud.

It seemed over. It had been so close, but not close enough. Sam didn't hear a thing and remained. She was lying on her side, facing away from the edge Witchblade had gone motionless. She was already half asleep, but then another gust of wind blew through her room from the open window. This was enough to get her to stir and she shifted, rolling onto her stomach and draping her arm over the side of the bed so it was mere inches away from the ancient relic.

Upon sensing the hand of its wielder so close, the Witchblade sprang into action. It didn't need ecto-energy now. The age old power that resided within took over and three dark tendrils shot out from the gauntlet and slithered up Sam's arm.

"Hnn…what? Huh?" groaned Sam, a strange sensation stirring her from her rest.

She opened her tired eyes and attempted to sit up. Then to her astonishment, she saw the mysterious gauntlet binding itself to her arm. And from there, something black and metallic snaked up her limbs and started consuming her entire body in a strange metallic armor.

"AHH! What is this?! Get off! Get the hell off me!" she exclaimed.

What happened next was like a nightmare. Time slowed and her vision became blurry. She attempted to fight off whatever was attacking her, but it was no use. It was as if something alive was bonding with her, searing itself onto her flesh. It was painful at first, but it quickly gave way to this overwhelming feeling of a new presence entering her mind. It was ancient. It was powerful. It was the Witchblade and it had finally found its new wielder.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

* * *

**Outside**

Ian Nottingham was half-asleep sitting on the rooftop of a house across from the Manson residents. He followed the girl here, which he assumed was her home and kept watch over her from afar with binoculars to make sure nothing was amiss. When he saw her go to sleep he took that as an opportunity to get some rest himself since there was little more he could do when she was asleep. But just when he was getting comfortable, he heard her scream and shot up to see what was going on.

"What the…" he said as he quickly grabbed his binoculars.

He looked towards the window that led inside Sam's room. He noticed that the window had been opened, something he didn't recall seeing during his previous observations. There was also some mysterious flashing going on inside. He wasn't sure what exactly they were, but he had a pretty good idea and it led him to one logical conclusion.

"This is definitely going to complicate things."

* * *

**Up next: Sam awakens with a new power and many questions.**


	3. Awakening

**The Wielder  
Chapter 3: Awakening**

* * *

**City Hall – Basement**

Kenneth Irons was deeply frustrated. He came to Amity Park hoping he could finally unlock the power of the Witchblade, but so far the only thing he accomplished was losing his prized relic. His colleague, Vlad Masters, had stumbled in light of constant boasting that his ghost technology could unlock the power. In addition many of his advanced machines were damaged or destroyed in the process. The Witchblade didn't take kindly to his experiments and ran off into the busy streets of Amity Park.

The ancient weapon was more alive than Irons had anticipated. It seemed to have a mind of its own that helped it discern true wielders with imposters. But whatever consciousness it had, it was clearly primitive. The reaction to the ecto-fusing process was wild and uncontrolled, hinting a very basic state of being. That lead him to believe that it couldn't have gone far and within an hour, a call from Ian Nottingham confirmed his suspicions.

"So the Witchblade found its wielder and bonded with her," summarized Kenneth as he stood outside on the steps of City Hall, "Do you know how it has affected this Samantha Manson girl yet?"

"_No, Master. After the screaming stopped she passed out and as far as I know she's still out. Should I try to retrieve the artifact?"_

"Don't bother. Your swords will do nothing against the power of the Witchblade. If you're to have any hope of subduing her, you'll need a better weapon. Meet me back at my hotel suite and we'll see what we can figure out."

"_As you wish, but is it even possible to separate the Witchblade from a wielder once it's bonded to her?"_

"I'm already working on it," replied Irons, "You just keep working on that girl."

Irons hung up his cell-phone and sighed. The situation has just grown much more complicated and he was going to have to rethink his strategy. At least he knew where the Witchblade was and who wielded it. Getting it back would be a challenge, but he refused to let one of history's greatest relics reside in the hands of some teenage girl.

"Irons!" shouted Vlad as he stormed out onto the steps of City Hall, "You've got a lot of nerve! Do you have any idea how long it took me to develop those machines?! My experiments have been set back at least six months because of you and that Witchblade monstrosity!"

"Cool it, Masters," said Kenneth calmly, "It's not like you can't afford to buy replacement parts."

"That's not the point! We had a deal!"

"And I intend to keep it. We just have to adjust our plans accordingly."

"Are you senile, Kenneth? I just told you the deal is off! You can keep your fancy relics!"

"Don't be foolish, Vlad. If it's that big a deal to you I'll pay all the expenses plus a little extra to get your experiments going again. And since your ghost technology showed it could affect the Witchblade, I'm willing to offer a little bonus."

Vlad was still very angry, but he immediately calmed at the mention of a bonus. Because when Kenneth Irons offered more, it was not to be taken lightly.

"Bonus? What kind of bonus?" he asked curiously.

Irons turned to him and grinned.

"Need I remind you that I have connections in places even ghosts can't get to? I know people who can help extend your power over more than just this one town. You seem to like being mayor, but what about being a governor? Or a senator? Or perhaps even more?"

"What makes you think I couldn't just buy my way to those positions?" said Vlad skeptically.

"Oh I'm sure you could," said Kenneth, "But your power will only be legitimate with the right connections. Trust me, if they don't like you they'll uncover whatever secrets you have to destroy you…and I just may be inclined to help them."

Vlad looked at him strangely. He wasn't sure if this was an offer or an ultimatum. With Irons it was always hard to tell the difference.

"Are you threatening me or bribing me?" he asked bluntly.

"Let me put it this way…you can either accept my charity or risk my wrath. You know what I'll do and rest assured I won't hesitate to expose your secret even if you expose mine. The question is which one of us is more prepared?"

Kenneth Irons made a hard bargain. He wasn't giving Vlad much of a choice. He had no doubts that Irons would make good on his threats. He was older, wiser, and every bit as ruthless as he was. If he were to reveal that he was half-ghost, he would be finished. The guys in white would be after him and all his ventures would fall apart overnight. But if he continued helping this man, he may not only keep his secret he may also further his goals. As nice as the mayor's house was, he heard the governors mansion was much nicer.

"Fine…I'll do it," said Vlad bitterly, "What's the plan? I assume you have one now that the Witchblade is on the loose."

"Let me worry about that, Vlad," said Irons as he stared ominously into the night sky, "All you have to do now is gather up the rest of your ghost equipment and move it to my pent house suit at the Amity Park Plaza Hotel."

"And what exactly am I supposed to do while you wrestle with this monstrosity?" said Vlad, still skeptical after what he had seen so far.

"Your machines have already shown that ecto-energy can affect the Witchblade so start looking for a way to transfer the power from the girl to another more fitting wielder. Work fast because the longer the Witchblade is with a wielder, the harder it is to separate. I don't care what it takes. I must have that power."

Vlad shook his head, still unable to grasp how Kenneth could be so obsessed with this Witchblade gauntlet. But he didn't ask questions. The old adage of ignorance is bliss might best apply here. And while he would have to organize yet another transfer of his equipment to Kenneth's pent house, Kenneth would have to find a way to capture this girl. If Ian's reports of this Samantha Manson were accurate, it wasn't going to be easy. He just hoped she didn't learn too much about the kind of power she now wielded.

* * *

**Sam's Room – Morning**

"No…no! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Sam shot up in her bed in a cold sweat, awakening from what was by far the strangest nightmare she ever had. Her heart was racing and she was breathing hard. Everything around her was still spinning. It was as if she was somewhere in between dreaming and consciousness and wasn't sure which was which.

"Sammy-kins? Are you alright?" came a voice from the other side of her door.

"Huh…what?"

Her mind quickly snapped back to reality upon recognizing her mother's voice. The world stopped spinning as she tried to reorient herself.

"Yeah mom, I'm fine," she said, "Just…a bad dream, that's all."

"Oh poor dear. Want me to make you some pancakes? We've got strawberries!"

"No thanks. I'm not hungry. Just…just give me a minute."

Her mother seemed to buy it and walked off. It was a good thing too because she didn't need her parents thinking she was more messed up than she already was. Besides, it was just a dream. It was over now and she could get back to the real world.

"What a nightmare," she groaned, "I must be stressed or something."

Letting out a sigh of relief, she stretched her limbs and wiped the sweat off her forehead. But as she did, she noticed something. There was something on her wrist and she didn't remember going to bed with any jewelry on. She quickly looked down to see some sort of metal bracelet with a dark purple jewel on top. It perfectly resembled the jewel she saw on the gauntlet from the museum the other day and if that weren't weird enough, it was on the same arm that had been consumed by that thing in her dream.

"No way!" she said in disbelief.

Slipping out from under her covers, she ran into her bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Maybe she wasn't totally awake yet or something. This had to be some sort of breakdown.

"Get a grip, Sam! It was just a dream. Just a regular, run-of-the-mill dream that just happened to involve some freaky artifact you saw the museum."

For a moment she leaned over the sink and stared at her reflection. She didn't look crazy or even sleep-deprived. She looked like some messed up girl who just had a really intense dream. She must have stared for a whole minute. Then she noticed something else.

"My arm…"

She felt over the bandage she had applied last night and to her amazement, there was no pain whatsoever. Curious, she removed the bandage to reveal that the bruise from yesterday was completely gone. There wasn't a trace of it ever having been there in the first place. It sent another chill down her spine. Bruises like that don't just heal overnight. Something was definitely up.

"What's happening to me? Am I going crazy?"

She looked back down at the bracelet. She didn't remember having something like this in her collection let alone wearing it to bed. She held it up to the light and looked at it carefully, feeling the same strange draw to it she felt yesterday at the museum. Something told her that whatever this was it was responsible for what was happening to her even though she didn't even know what this thing even was.

"What are you?" she mused as she ran her hand over it.

Suddenly, the bracelet moved. Just like in her dream, the mysterious ornament came to life and started engulfing her arm. Only this time it wasn't painful or overwhelming. It was as if it were just another limb. From the jewel, a blackish, metallic gauntlet formed around her hand and forearm. It was like armor, only it moved as though it were a living creature. When it reached its final form, she recognized it as the same artifact from the museum.

Samantha Manson was officially shocked. She had seen some pretty weird things in her ghost hunting adventures with Danny, but this was really something. She moved her hand and arm, finding that the gauntlet reacted as if it were part of her own body. It felt strange, but at the same time very natural. After a minute of staring at it, she concluded that her so called dream wasn't a dream.

"Okay, I'm officially freaked out! I better call Danny and Tucker!"

* * *

**Outside Sam's House – One Hour Later**

Danny and Tucker each yawned as they neared Sam's house. The sun had barely risen when she called them and they were still half-asleep. After a long week of school and yesterday's incident with Skulker, they were all in need of some rest. Why she would wake them up this early on a Saturday morning was anybody's guess, but she sounded pretty frantic over the phone.

"Remind me again why we're up this early on a Saturday?" said Tucker with another yawn, "I thought we all agreed this was our day to sleep in."

"I don't know, Tuck. But Sam sounded pretty serious when she called," said Danny, who was also still groggy, "I hope she's okay."

"Well whatever it is, I hope we can get it over with soon. I need my beauty rest."

Danny rolled his eyes. He was sure that whatever was going on, she had a good reason for calling them. Sam wasn't the kind of girl who would get worked up over minor things. It had to be pretty significant for her to call them like this.

When they reached Sam's house, they found her pacing restlessly on the sidewalk. She appeared impatient and disheveled. She didn't even wear as much makeup as usual, which was really telling because she always found time to put on her goth-styled appearance. But when some ancient artifact latched itself to her body her priorities immediately changed. When she saw her two friends walking towards her she let out a sigh of relief and rushed over to them.

"Glad you guys are here. We have a seriously freaky, possibly ghost-related problem and I need your help!" she said in a panicked tone.

"Whoa, slow down, Sam," said Danny, "Take a deep breath or something."

"Yeah, some of us still aren't fully awake," said Tucker with another yawn, "What's this all about anyways?"

Sam looked around to make sure nobody was in hearing distance. Since it was early on a Saturday morning the streets were pretty empty so they shouldn't cause too much a stir. She took a deep breath and prepared to tell them what happened, knowing full well that she had no clue what was happening to her.

"It started yesterday at the museum. I sort of wandered off and saw this weird artifact on display. I don't know what it was, but I swear there was something really strange about it. And I know this sounds strange, but I think it recognized me."

"Recognized you?" said Tucker in only a half-serious tone, "How does some old artifact recognize you?"

"I don't know! But seeing as how we're both standing to someone whose half ghost, don't I deserve the benefit of the doubt here?!"

She had a point. Their standards of strange were pretty broad given what they had dealt with in the past so Sam definitely deserved a little trust on their part.

"Take it easy, Sam. We believe you," said Danny, "Which artifact was this anyways? Do you remember?"

"Does anybody ever remember a lecture from Mr. Lancer?" quipped Sam, "All I know is that by the time we passed the display again the thing was gone. I thought it was over, but then last night I had this dream that it was in my room and trying to…to merge with me or something. I don't remember the details, but it was really intense and I swear that thing was alive! And when I woke up all the bruises I from yesterday were healed and I had this on my arm."

She held up her arm to show the mysterious bracelet that the Witchblade had formed to hide itself. Danny and Tucker didn't seem too impressed though. To them it looked like just another piece of jewelry. It definitely fit Sam's style, but it sure didn't look like some living relic.

"Uh…didn't we see something like that in a jewelry store at the mall yesterday?" commented Tucker.

"It's not what you think," said Sam, "It must have some kind of mechanism or something to help it blend in."

"And how do you know that?" said Danny, finding this increasingly strange even by their standards.

"I don't," she said bluntly, "It's like some sort of…here, I'll show you."

Sam pulled Danny and Tucker off towards the side of her house so they would be safe from prying eyes. Once clear, she took a deep breath and held up her hand. She wasn't sure how she got this thing to work the first time. She didn't even know if she could control this thing because it seemed to have a mind of its own. But if she did it once she could do it again. She had to prove she wasn't crazy.

"Watch…I swear this thing is alive," said Sam intently.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to summon whatever it was that bonded to her. Tucker and Danny watched, not sure of what to expect. She seemed to be struggling, trying to draw on something she didn't even have a name for. She called on whatever inner strength she could. She remembered Danny telling her about how he channeled his ghost powers by focus and concentration, but whatever this thing was it didn't seem to behave like ghost powers because it wasn't doing anything.

"Come on! Stupid thing! What's wrong with it?!" she exclaimed, banging her hand against it.

"Must not have come with an instruction manual," said Danny, now starting to worry that Sam was really losing it.

"Don't look at me like that! If I knew what this thing was then…"

Suddenly she was cut off by a deep voice.

"It's called the Witchblade," said a tall dark figure in a trench coat that emerged from the street, "And the reason it's not working is because you are too young to comprehend its power."

"Wow, where did you come from?" said Tucker.

"That you don't need to know. I'm here for the Witchblade and since it's attached to you, little girl, you're coming with me."

Ian Nottingham wasn't used to dealing with teenagers. His usual tasks were of a far more mature nature not for the faint of heart. Had he not seen what these three were capable of earlier he never would have bothered putting his vast talents to work against them. But Kenneth made it very clear to him that no one, not even a teenager, was to be taken lightly when they had the Witchblade in their possession.

He was an imposing presence, but Danny and his friends had faced plenty of dangerous figures before and they were ghosts. This guy was no Skulker, but he looked serious and seemed to know more than they did about this matter. And for that very reason, Sam was in no hurry to go with him.

"Witchblade?" said Sam, looking down at the relic, "Just what the hell is this thing and why do you want with it anyways?"

"You can ask your questions later. Now are you going to come quietly or am I going to have to drag you kicking and screaming like the little brat you are?"

"Okay, just for that you're not taking Sam anywhere!" said Danny as he took a defensive stance in front of his friend.

"Boy, you have no idea who you're dealing with," said Ian in a threatening tone.

Reaching into his trench coat, Ian pulled out a long decorated katana his master had given him for just such a fight. On the surface it looked like a normal sword, but once he held it in an attack-ready stance it flashed bright yellow, revealing a hidden power that was specifically tailored for fighting ghosts in addition to subduing the average human.

"Wow…that's a big sword," said Tucker nervously as he took a step back.

"You'll need a bigger sword to get through me!" said Danny, his eyes flashing bright green.

"Wanna bet?" grinned Ian.

With a swift, fluid slash a bright yellow beam shot out from the tip of the sword, impacting Danny squarely on the chest. He tried to phase through it, but somehow his ghost form reacted to it and he was sent flying into a wall.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!"

"Danny!" exclaimed Sam.

"Trying to use those ghost powers of yours?" taunted Ian.

Danny rubbed his head and groaned, reeling from a mix of pain and shock. It wasn't enough this guy knocked him senseless, but he also appeared to know his secret. That was definitely not good.

"What? Ghost powers? You…"

"You don't have to play dumb with me kid (not that you would know the difference). I've been watching you and your little friend. I know what you can do. And you will NOT come between me and the Witchblade."

"In that case, you won't mind if I even the odds. I'm goin' ghost!"

Danny Fenton transformed into Danny Phantom, not bothering to hide his power now that this mysterious stranger knew. That sword of his may have packed a punch, but it would take more than one blow to knock him out of a fight.

"That won't do you any good," said Ian.

"I'll risk it," he said bravely, "Tucker, Sam…run!"

Danny began his assault by taking to the air and rushing the dark stranger, but he quickly showed off his agility by leaping into the air and flying over him. It was a pretty impressive show of acrobatics, but Danny didn't have time to be impressed. He few up into the air and fired a barrage of ghost rays down on him. As he expected, the stranger countered them by swatting them away with his katana. His reflexes were pretty fast if not too fast to be human. But Danny didn't care about hitting him. He just had to give Sam and Tucker a window to get away.

Tucker was trying to take advantage of it, grabbing Sam's hand and leading her away from the danger. But for some reason, she wouldn't go.

"Uh Sam? I think that's our cue. Let's go already!" urged Tucker.

"I'm not leaving," she said, shaking off his grip.

"What? Sam, what are you…"

His words fell on deaf ears. Sam was back in that dazed state again. Just like the first time she laid eyes on the artifact, it had her in caught up in this feeling again. Only this time it didn't feel so surreal. Looking down at the bracelet that hid the living weapon within, she began to truly feel it. This thing didn't try to consume her. It chose her. It time she understand that choice.

"The Witchblade…" she said distantly.

Now more focused, she summoned the power and the bracelet came to life. And just as it had done earlier, the gauntlet formed over her arm. Only this time, it didn't stop at her arm. It spread all over her body, tearing through her clothes and hugging her like a second skin. The same metallic/rocky texture of the gauntlet formed an armor-like body suit that extended down her legs, partially covered her face, and formed a matching gauntlet on her other arm. Around her upper body the armor hugged her feminine features, creating a bikini-like ensemble that bore the distinct form of the Witchblade.

"Whoa…that's hot," said Tucker with an awestruck look.

Ian Nottingham, who was still deflecting ghost rays, saw this as well and grew more frustrated. He remembered what Kenneth told him about the wielder and the Witchblade. The longer they were together the harder they were to break apart. He had to subdue her now before she learned the full extent of her powers.

"Oh no you don't!" grunted Ian.

Ducking another ghost blast, he rolled off to the side and fired another bolt of energy at Danny as he hovered above him. He tried to avoid it, but this man's reflexes were too quick and he was knocked out of the air.

"Auuuuugh!" he grunted as he fell to the ground and de-powered.

"Danny!" exclaimed Tucker, rushing to his aid.

With the ghost boy now subdued, Ian turned his attention to the wielder. She looked to be in a state of shock, gazing over her body which now bore the emblems of the Witchblade. She clearly did not know the extent of her new power. Her ignorance would be his advantage as he approached her with his sword menacingly aimed at her.

"That power is not meant for you," said Ian strongly, "If you won't reject it now I'll do it for you!"

Holding his sword high, Ian prepared to attack. His superhuman agility should be more than enough to take down a 14-year-old girl. He didn't have to kill her. He just had to let the power of the sword react with the power already in her, either knocking her out or injuring her enough so he could take her away.

Time slowed for Sam as the stranger's sword lunged towards her. She didn't know what was happening to her, but her instincts kicked in and she promptly defended herself. The Witchblade seemed to do the same, forming a large shield over her arm that she used to block the incoming slash.

"Whoa…that new," said Sam.

"Hrrrrrahhhhhh!" yelled Ian as he launched another attack.

Sam instinctively fell back, using the shield to block his relentless slashes. Every time his glowing sword collided with her shield, strange sparks shot out. It showed two distinct powers colliding with one another. Ian was bigger, stronger, and faster, but the Witchblade wasn't about to let any harm come to its new wielder. It would take a lot more than some powered up sword to defeat the offspring of the Darkness and the Angeles.

The Witchblade guided Sam's body through the motions, helping her defend herself against the onslaught. Sam had no choice, but to go along with it. And since she didn't understand what was happening to her, the ancient relic could only do so much for her.

"Little punk!" grunted Ian.

Fed up with her resistance, he delivered a solid kick to her gut when their weapons clashed again. This knocked her back against the wall of another house and into a couple of trash cans. Grunting in determination, she struggled back up to her feet. But Ian was closing fast with no mercy in his eyes.

"Time to end this," he said strongly, "I'll give you one last chance to come quietly."

"I may not know what's going on, but I know enough NOT to go with someone like you!" said Sam defiantly.

"Have it your way."

Ian prepared for a final assault. Sam raised her arm in defense, but this time the Witchblade did more than shield itself. A new power flowed through her, causing her hand to glow a brilliant fiery yellow. She felt a pressure inside build. It grew fast until it erupted in a powerful, concentrated beam of energy that hit Ian dead on and sent him flying up into the sky, sailing over several city blocks and landing in a dumpster.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Yeow! That's gonna leave a mark," said Tucker, cringing at the blow the stranger took.

It surprised even Sam. She looked down at her arm where the Witchblade was firmly in place. The awe she felt when she first laid eyes on it at the museum had turned to amazement. She didn't just feel this thing protecting her body. She felt it deep within her core. It was as if it had become a part of her and there was no going back.

With the stranger gone, Danny shook off the lingering soreness from the blow he suffered earlier and rose up. He was just as amazed as Tucker at what he had just seen. Whatever had happened to Sam last night, there was clearly more to it than any of them suspected.

"Sam?" said Danny as he and Tucker approached her, "Are you…"

"I'm fine…I think," she said, looking over her body, "Hold on, let me see if I can…"

She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to manipulate the Witchblade as she had tried to do earlier. This time it was easier. It responded to her thoughts and shifted back into the form of a gauntlet and then back to a simple bracelet. But in the process, it revealed an unexpected side-effect. Because once the armor of the Witchblade was gone, so were her clothes. It gave both Danny and Tucker an unabated eyeful of her naked body.

"Waaaaaaahhhhh!" exclaimed Sam, throwing her hands and arms over her private areas.

"Wow…" said Danny, his eyes widening in amazement.

"Stupid thing! Turn around already!"

Danny and Tucker covered their eyes and looked away while Sam grabbed a nearby trash lid to cover herself. She then ran back into her house in search of a change of clothes, leaving them dumbstruck by what they just saw. Seeing her wield some ancient relic as a weapon was surprising enough, but seeing her naked was just as shocking. Danny was especially struck. He blushed profusely, knowing that image of her wasn't going to leave his mind anytime soon.

"Dude, all this before nine? Something is seriously up," said Tucker.

"No kidding," said Danny with a goofy grin on his face, "We uh…better look into it."

"Definitely, but first you better put your eyes back in your head. Sam sees you with that look on your face then you and that trench coat guy are going to have a lot more in common."

Danny rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. It was going to be hard looking at Sam the same way again without remembering this. It wasn't enough he thought he might have a crush on her. Now he had this to deal with. But for her sake, he set it aside and focused on the current problem that faced them.

"So…any idea on what to do next?" asked Tucker.

"Not a clue," sighed Danny, "That guy called this thing the Witchblade. Any idea what that is?"

"Not a clue," said Tucker, "I could look it up on my PDA?"

"Don't bother. Something tells me we're going to need expert advice on this thing. And I know just who to ask."

* * *

**Ian Nottingham**

Garbage was not ideal for cushioning a fall. Ian found that out first hand when he landed in a dumpster after being blasted several blocks by the Witchblade. Kenneth told him a lot of things about the relic, but he never told him it could back such a heavy punch. His body was sore all over once he came to. He stumbled out of the dumpster, brushing off bits of rotting fruit and old food in the process. He knew his master wouldn't be pleased. He wanted that girl brought to him before she learned to use the Witchblade's full power. Now it appeared he was too late.

After collecting himself, he called his master and told him what happened.

"_So the girl has already learned to wield part of the Witchblade's power…"_

"Yes. I'm sorry, master, but I wasn't strong enough. Give me another chance and I swear I'll bring her in!"

"_Don't bother. With her power and the ghost boy by her side, they're too strong."_

"I can take them! I know I can!" said Ian strongly.

"_You fight the battles you can win, Ian. I promise you'll get another chance, but now is not the time to let your pride get the better of you. I need your help in other matters."_

Ian let out a bitter grunt. As loyal as he was to his master, he hated it when he held him back. It was an insult to his honor. A teenage girl had just humiliated him by knocking him into a pile of garbage. That kind of defeat could not go unpunished. But for the sake of the mission, he swallowed his pride and listened to Irons.

"What are my orders?"

"_Return to my pent house. I need you to help me set up Vlad's equipment. Now that the Witchblade has bonded to a wielder, we'll have to find another way of tapping its power."_

"But what about the girl and the ghost boy?" said Ian strongly, "How do you plan on getting close to them now?"

"_We'll worry about that later. For now, we must rest and regroup. I assure you, all is not lost. The Witchblade may have gotten away from me for now, but the power will be mine. As for this Samantha Manson…she may be a wielder, but she will NOT come between me and my destiny."_

* * *

**Up next: Sam begins to learn about the nature and power of the Witchblade.**


	4. Knowledge and Training

**The Wielder  
Chapter 4: Knowledge and Training**

* * *

**Ghost Zone – The Far Frozen**

After throwing on a new set of clothes, Sam met up with Danny and Tucker and they went to Danny's house where they hopped in the Specter Speeder and drove off into the ghost zone. Their mission was to find Frostbite, who they hoped would know something about the Witchblade. He had already shown a keen knowledge in other ghostly artifacts like the Infimap, but that was unique to the ghost zone. Based on what that stranger in the trench coat told them this artifact wasn't exactly ghostly in origin. But they needed answers and Sam was getting restless.

It took a while before she could look Danny in the eye again. After seeing her naked, it was noticeably awkward. She could tell that image was still in his mind because he blushed when he looked at her. Luckily, Tucker kept talking to help distract them. He sensed the tension as well and tried hard not to laugh the whole way. He would have plenty of time to call them out on it after they resolved this.

"I hope Frostbite can shed some light on this Witchblade thing because I'm not getting much from the web," said Tucker, who was using his PDA with the Specter Speeder systems.

"Well whoever that guy was he seemed to know enough about it to think it was worth fighting for," said Danny.

"Is that a good or bad thing?" asked Sam warily, her eyes drifting down towards the bracelet that concealed the Witchblade.

"I'm not sure, but hopefully we'll find out soon."

The Specter Speeder landed in the frozen tundra of Frostbite and his people. Their arrival was quickly noticed. One of Frostbite's people ran to inform him and was there to greet them when they stepped out.

"Great One! This is an unexpected surprise," said the ghost/snow creature, "What brings you to my humble domain?"

"I need your help, Frostbite," said Danny urgently, "We've kinda come across something we don't understand and I was hoping you could shed some light on it."

"Of course! I'll be more than happy to help. Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine. It's my friend. Sam, why don't show them?"

Sam groaned slightly as she approached the friendly snow creature. So far this thing had gotten her nothing but negative reactions. But for the sake of answers, she had to risk it.

"This thing better not tear my clothes again," she muttered.

Concentrating, she summoned the Witchblade. Frostbite watched with intrigue as her bracelet shifted into the fully formed gauntlet, which she assumed was its original form. And once Frostbite laid eyes on it, his expression shifted.

"Oh my…is that what I think it is?"

"It is if you know what the Witchblade is," said Sam, "Please tell me you know something about it. This thing has caused me nothing but trouble since I first saw it."

Frostbite took a closer look, running his furry paw over the exotic artifact. He couldn't believe it. It was the Witchblade. This great power was in his domain. He was both honored and anxious because some of the things he heard about this relic were not pleasant.

"Come…we must get to my lair! This is a most amazing find!"

"Hold up!" said Sam, calling the relic back, "When you say amazing do you mean the good kind or the bad kind? Because I'm not going anywhere until I know what this thing is and what its doing to me!"

"Calm down, young one," said Frostbite, "I assure you, you're in no danger at the moment. But what you have is a great and ancient power!"

"That much I've gathered," said Sam, stopping to take a deep breath, "Should I worry?"

"Let's find out, shall we? Follow me."

Sam followed him, but she was still anxious. She noticed that when he said she wasn't in any danger he only said she wasn't in danger now. That didn't mean she would be okay in the future. It definitely didn't sit well. It was probably too much to ask to have Frostbite say it was just some pesky ghost relic that could easily be discarded. But she still wanted answers. She just wasn't sure she would like them.

"Are you going to be okay, Sam?" said Danny with a worried look.

"I don't know," she said, hugging her shoulders, "Between the nightmare, the guy who attacked us, and whatever this Witchblade is I'm starting to worry. Am I stuck with this thing? Does it have some kind of curse or something that means it's going to control me and hurt everybody I get close to?"

"Hey, take it easy, Sam," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Whatever this thing is we'll help you deal with it. It'll be okay. I promise."

Sam smiled at his words. She knew Danny better than anybody. He never made a promise he couldn't keep. It was part of the hero in him and it helped her and the rest of Amity Park for that matter sleep easier. It also made her blush again. Now definitely wasn't the place or time to get caught up in that situation, but it helped comfort her during this difficult time.

Upon entering Frostbite's lair, they watched anxiously as he brought up a digital archive on a computer console his people maintained. It was in the same area where they kept the Infimap, secure from prying eyes and protected from exploitation by other ghosts. So if there was any information on the Witchblade in the Ghost Zone, it would be here. But the expression on Frostbite's face didn't look too promising.

"Hmm…it appears our archives have little to say about the Witchblade," reported Frostbite, "The only information we have says it is a powerful weapon of sorts."

"Yeah, that much I've gathered," said Sam, "Just what kind of weapon are we talking about?"

"A unique kind…one, that if I'm reading this correctly, is alive."

"Alive?" said Tucker, "Okay, that's pretty high up on the creepy factor. Does that mean it has a personality or something?"

"I'm not sure," said Frostbite as he looked over more data, "But it does say that the Witchblade was forged by two powerful forces, the Darkness and the Angelus, and is meant to act as a balance between the opposing forces of good and evil. But only a select few can wield it. The gauntlet appears to choose who wields it. Because it is only in the hands of a wielder, which is always a woman, its full power unlocked."

"While I'm all for feminism, why did it pick me?"

"That I don't know. There's no information on how the Witchblade goes about choosing a user, but for whatever reason the wielder becomes imbued with great power. The mysterious nature of the gauntlet allows it to form armor, weapons, and tools at the whim of the wielder. It also has great firepower not unlike ghost rays."

"That would explain how you sent that trench coat guy flying," said Danny, "So how does it work? Can Sam can control it?"

Frostbite looked over the remaining data on the Witchblade, but there wasn't much. The great one and his friends clearly had many questions and rightfully so. This power was a mystery even to his people.

"My archives don't say, but I suspect so," he said, "If the Witchblade relies on the wielder it's logical to assume that it would act in accordance to her whim."

"That's a relief…sort of," said Sam, looking down at the bracelet, "So how do I work this thing? It didn't exactly come with an instruction manual."

"Like any other weapon, it requires training. And if you want I would be more than happy to teach you how to wield your new power."

"I…I don't know," said Sam warily, "Maybe I should learn more about this thing before I begin using it."

"Aw come on, Sam! How many people get the chance to train with an ancient weapon?" said Tucker in encouragement.

"Yeah, and wouldn't it be better anyways if you knew how to use it in case another guy like Mr. Trench Coat came along?" added Danny.

"Well it would be nice to be able to use this thing without losing my clothes…" mused Sam.

She took another moment to think about it. Frostbite was pretty good at training. She remembered Danny telling her about the time he taught him to use his ice powers when they developed. Maybe he could help her do the same with the Witchblade. Something about this thing still didn't sit well with her. That guy who attacked them seemed pretty adamant about taking it from her. She didn't know enough to know if it was for a good reason or not, but in the meantime she might as well get used to this thing.

"Okay, I'll do it," she said strongly.

"Splendid! We'll start right away," said Frostbite, excited to see this great power in action.

"And we'll help," said Danny, changing into his phantom form, "I've gone through this sort of thing before anyways."

"Guess that leaves me with video duty," said Tucker as he took out more gear, "If we're gonna learn about this thing we might as well get some real-time footage. Just…try to keep your clothes on this time."

Sam shot Tucker a dirty look while Danny couldn't stop from chuckling a bit. That was one thing she wanted to get down immediately. There was no telling how long she and the Witchblade would be stuck together so she might as well learn to use it. And given how often they had to fight ghosts the power in this ancient relic might come in handy one day.

* * *

**Walker's Prison**

It was another day of breaking in new prisoners for Walker, the self-proclaimed warden of the Ghost Zone. His troops had just brought in a new inmate from a remote region of the zone who had been causing quite a stir lately. According to his file he was known as Prince Aragon. He used to rule an area he kept in a time warp so it never advanced beyond the Middle Ages. Then recently he was dethroned when he tried to get a queen from the real world and ended up luring Danny Phantom to his kingdom. Not surprisingly, he was deposed for going up against that punk. Soon afterwards he was exiled and started roaming the Ghost Zone in search of a new niche. Too bad he wasn't smart enough to lay low because he caused quite a raucous whenever he lost his temper.

Now he was in secure custody, locked in one of Walker's many interrogation rooms and bound by ecto-shackles and a neck restraint that acted as a restraining mechanism to keep him from assuming his dragon form.

"So Prince Aragon…or should I say, ex-prince?" taunted Walker.

"I prefer prince if you don't mind," said the disgruntled ghost.

"Right," he said snidely, "Well your majesty you've been causing quite a stir. Property damage, fighting, enough charred landscape to warrant extensive jail time…guess losing your kingdom was pretty trough. But it's no excuse to break the rules."

"I am a prince you lousy excuse for a security guard! Your rules are a joke and I demand you release me from this pitiful playground you call a prison!"

"Just for that I'm gonna throw in some extra cleaning duty," quipped Walker, "You may have been ruler of your kingdom, but here I'm the king. It's my way…no way else."

Prince Aragon muttered a curse under his breath. There was a time where ghosts who talked to him with such disrespect would be torn apart by their ectoplasm. But without his kingdom, his army, and his powers he was a mere shadow of his former glory. And it was all because of that Danny Phantom and that girl.

"Now then, let's talk about your punishment," said Walker, "With all the damage you've done you have a LOT to answer for. Let's start with…"

Suddenly, the voice of one of his subordinates cut him off.

"Sir! You need to see this!"

"Can it wait? I'm in the middle of something," said Walker, eyeing the prince.

"It's important! It's about the ghost boy."

That definitely caught Walker's attention. He hadn't had a chance to go after Danny Phantom since Wulf broke free. He was still public enemy number one in the Ghost Zone as far as he was concerned. Any opportunity to put him behind bars was worth taking a chance on.

"Our scanners picked up something strange about an hour ago," reported his officer, "Some strange new energy entered the ghost zone. It's unlike anything I've ever seen before."

"What's this got to do with Danny Phantom?" asked Walker, grabbing the report and looking over it himself.

"One of our scouts spotted him in that speeder of theirs. Whatever the source of this energy is, he's somehow connected to it."

That was enough for Walker. As far as he was concerned, this was a clear case of transporting an illegal energy into the Ghost Zone. He looked over the report and even he was surprised at what the scanners picked up. Whatever this energy was, it wasn't like anything he had ever seen before. It looked very powerful and may pose a danger to law biding ghosts everywhere. That left only one course of action.

"Kid just can't follow the rules," he sighed, "Looks like I'm gonna have to bring him in."

"Should we assemble a unit?" asked the subordinate.

"Yes, but keep it on standby. I want to handle this personally."

"But sir…"

"That'll be all," said Walker sternly.

His subordinate didn't argue and floated away to carry out his duties. Walker then turned to the Prince, who looked just as intrigued by this as he was. According to his record, he had a history with Danny Phantom as well. Because of him he lost his kingdom, which would explain his bitterness. But his anger was his own opportunity.

"It's your lucky day, your highness. You just got another shot at freedom."

"While I loath that Danny Phantom, give me one good reason why I should help you," scoffed the Aragon.

"Aside from this long list of violations, perhaps we can help each other in another way. I want Danny Phantom behind bars and you want your kingdom back. Now I've got plenty of hardware and grunts to go around, but they don't come cheap. We understand one another?"

"An intriguing offer," said the Prince, "But what assurance do I have that you'll keep your end?"

"How's this?"

Walker then tore up the file that listed the Princes many violations and clicked a button on his belt that released the ecto-shackles restraining him. The collar around his neck was still secure, but Walker's generosity only went so far.

Prince Aragon was intrigued. While he didn't like the idea of working with this thug, his hatred for Danny Phantom was much stronger. In addition, he might just get his kingdom back. That way he could reverse those disgusting reforms his sister put into place. He would be able to rule again and all he had to do was help bring in his most despised enemy.

"So…do we have a deal?" said Walker.

"Very well…deal," said Aragon.

"Glad we understand each other," grinned the ghost warden, "Follow me. We're gonna put that dragon power of yours to good use."

* * *

**Frostbite's Domain**

For the next few hours Frostbite and his people helped Sam undergo a crash course in using the Witchblade. It was sure to be a challenge given they had never worked with a power such as this, but they owed it too the Great One to help his friend.

They started off simple by helping Sam get in touch with the power within. They taught her to focus not on the weapon itself, but the energy inside it. Through a few simple exercises she was better able to control the shape-shifting properties of the Witchblade. She started off slow by shifting it from a bracelet to its gauntlet form. Once she got that down she moved on to forming armor, this time being more careful so as not to rip her clothes. At first she did tear a few holes in her shirt and skirt, but with encouragement from Danny and Tucker she was able to form the full bodied armor that helped her fight off that stranger in the trench coat.

Once she got shifting into her armor form down, they practiced forming weapons. This also took a little trial and error. Danny and Frostbite tried to show her how to form shapes by using their ice powers as an example, but the Witchblade worked a little differently. She could barely form a shield at first, but with a little time she was able to refine her craft. Soon she was forming swords, staffs, shields, and even some claw-like extensions for her fingers that she could use to climb walls. This skill culminated when she gained a level of control that allowed her to form tentacle-like extensions that she could use as extra limbs to reach and grab something or even as a restraint, which Danny was nice enough to participate as a guinea pig for. Although he did tell her she had to work on her grip.

Next was target practice. Sam had already demonstrated earlier with that guy that she could project quite a bit of energy with her power. Now it was just a matter of harnessing it. Frostbite formed a columns of icicles to act as makeshift targets. Danny took over most of the teaching at this point, using his ghost ray as an example. Sam tried to follow, but her aim was a little off at first. She ended up hitting a cliff ledge that caused a mini-avalanche of snow that landed on some onlookers. Another blast ricocheted off a rock and nearly hit Tucker, which Sam had to repeatedly apologize for.

But despite these early struggles, her aim improved and soon she was hitting targets near the same rate as Danny. When she finally did it without any misfires, Danny gave her a high-five to celebrate. It seemed as though she was finally getting a handle of the Witchblade. In fact, a part of her was starting to like it. Something like this would definitely come in handy fighting ghosts. Maybe now she would be able to get in the action as well. It wasn't like Danny couldn't use the help.

And who knows? They just might make a good team together. The thought of her and Danny fighting alongside one another brought a smile to her face. They just had to work out who would be the side-kick.

"8 out of 10. Not bad, Sam," said Tucker as he captured the last image on his PDA, "This will make a killer video for our archives."

"At least I'm not destroying anything. Guess that means I've got a handle on this thing," she said, looking down at the gauntlet.

"Not bad for one day of training," said Danny with an approving grin.

"Indeed," said Frostbite, "But I urge you to be vigilant, Sam. Our knowledge of the Witchblade is limited. There may be secrets we have yet to uncover."

"Duly noted," she said, "I'll just have to be careful."

"Yeah, how many times has one of us said that?" joked Tucker.

Sam's expression shifted. He made a valid point. Being careful wasn't one of their strong points. Time and again things changed to the point where being careful were no longer an option. At least Danny was there to help her. He made her a promise and she trusted he would keep it. A reassuring smile from him was all the comfort she needed.

"Just remember that this relic chose you, Sam," said Frostbite, "Whatever power the Witchblade may hold, it is tied to you. You must wield it and not let it wield you."

"Will do," said Sam, "Thanks Frostbite."

"Think nothing of it. Any friend of the Great One is a friend of mine. Do be careful out there. Great power has a way of attracting greater conflict."

His words hung strong as Danny, Tucker, and Sam waved goodbye and boarded the Specter Speeder. She hadn't even had the Witchblade a day and someone had already attacked her. At least now she was prepared to defend herself. But there were still some lingering questions. Frostbite was able to tell them a little about this ancient relic, but one issue still remained. Was this weapon harmful? Could Sam really control it? Or would it end up controlling her?

These were vital questions, but for now they would have to wait. In the meantime, they would just have to adjust to this new development. It was sure to make things interesting in their already insane lives.

"So Danny, I guess this means you're not the only super-powered teen in Amity Park now," said Tucker.

"Meh, I don't mind," he shrugged, "It's kind of cool actually. Now I don't have to be the only guy who can do weird things."

"Glad you think so," grinned Sam, "Just don't get any bright ideas about calling me your sidekick or something. Just because I'm new to the whole having-superpowers thing doesn't mean I'll take it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," laughed Danny, "Which reminds me, what should your superhero name be?"

"Hey that's right! Every superpower needs a cool name," said Tucker, "How about Goth Girl? The Goth Knight? Or…"

But Sam quickly cut him off. Tucker was great with technology, but not with names.

"Don't push it, Tucker. I'm not big on names, but for now…I'll just stick with Witchblade."

* * *

**Kenneth Irons Penthouse**

The last of Vlad's equipment arrived at the Amity Park Plaza Hotel late that afternoon. Ian Nottingham was present to help bring it in quietly and move it up to the top floor where Kenneth Irons was staying. He did so quietly with Vlad's help, not wanting to draw any suspicion to their activities. Amity Park was already a hot bed for ghost activity and neither of them needed the extra attention during a time like this.

Once all the crates had been moved up to the pent house, Vlad did a quick check of his supplies. What Kenneth Irons was asking of him was a pretty tall order. Transferring supernatural energy from one body to another efficiently and safely was no easy task. It required cutting edge technology, creative tinkering, and serious capital. Thankfully, Kenneth was footing the bill for all his expenses. It was the least he could do after causing so much damage at City Hall.

"That's the last of them," said Ian as he set a large box down in the center of the suite.

"Excellent," grinned Vlad, "That's it for the heavy lifting. The rest of the parts will be flown in tomorrow."

"And how long will it take you to assemble them?" asked Kenneth intently.

"Not long," assured Vlad.

"How long is not long?"

"A couple of days at the best. A week at the most. But don't rush me! This is a sensitive procedure. We don't want a repeat of what happened last time."

"Indeed," said Irons, "Then we better get to work."

"What about me, Master? How can I help?" asked Ian.

"Keep tabs on the Manson girl. But don't engage her under any circumstances until you hear from me. Understood?"

"Understood," said Ian bitterly, "But even if you do get these gizmos set up, how do you expect to lure her here?"

"You worry about following that girl. I'll worry about getting her here," said Kenneth, "Just watch her."

Ian grunted in frustration, but conceded to his master's wishes. As much as he wanted to make that girl pay for his humiliating defeat, he had to follow orders. He owed Kenneth that much. Hopefully he would get his chance at revenge later on. He didn't care if this girl was just a kid. Nobody humiliates him like that.

As Ian slipped away, he cast Vlad a threatening look. It was his way of saying 'don't even try to cross us.' Vlad got the message, but wasn't intimidated. Dealing with Kenneth was hard enough, but there was something about that Nottingham guy that didn't sit well with him.

"Charming company you keep, Kenneth," commented Vlad sarcastically, "Where did you find that lug anyways?"

"I would respect Ian if I were you," warned Kenneth, "He has somewhat of a short fuse."

"Oh I'm so scared," taunted Vlad.

"You should be. Ian is my bodyguard for a reason. When you deal with supernatural forces like the Witchblade, you need henchmen with a supernatural touch. There's more to Ian than you think."

"What did you do? Merge him with a demon?"

"Close," grinned Kenneth, "I fused his DNA with an ancient strain I found in my travels. It's what gives him his abilities and so long as I'm working with your kind, he's my insurance policy. Consider that while your working on this machine, Masters."

Vlad Masters never liked being threatened. Having ghost powers gave him little to fear throughout his life, but Kenneth Irons knew how to push his buttons. He never left anything to chance and went out of his way to show him that he didn't fear his wrath. It annoyed him to no end. It was sure to be a long week working with this man, but the sooner they got this over with the sooner he could collect his reward.

"Now then…let's get started, shall we?"

* * *

**Up next: Sam and the Witchblade face their first test against Walker while Kenneth Irons contemplates his next move.**


	5. Partners

**The Wielder  
Chapter 5: Partners**

* * *

**Amity Park – Nasty Burger**

It had been a day since Sam became a wielder of the Witchblade. After returning from the Ghost Zone, she spent the rest of her day at Danny's house relaxing and recovering. A full nights rest and some quality down time was just what she needed to get over everything that had happened. At times her eyes drifted down to the bracelet that hid the Witchblade and the more she looked at it, the more she came to accept that this thing was a part of her for now and she might as well get used to it.

And she did have to admit, it came in handy at times. Using the Witchblade, she could form tendrils that she could use to cook up a snack, snag the remote from Tucker, and reach for something without ever having to get up from the couch. While it was hardly the kind of features a weapon meant to enforce balance in the universe was forged for, as long as it was on her body she might as well use it.

Now they were at the Nasty Burger enjoying a good old unhealthy lunch together and the mood amongst them was substantially better.

"So Tucker, how's your research on the Witchblade going?" asked Danny.

"It's…progressing," he said with a slight grin.

"Let me guess…you haven't even started yet," groaned Sam as she set down her veggie burger.

"How could I?" he exclaimed, "I've been working on putting together all the footage from yesterday! You should see it. I've added music, voice-over, and even a few sound effects."

"I'm sure it's a work of art," said Danny, rolling his eyes, "Just don't go posting it on youtube again. We don't need anybody recognizing Sam."

"Yeah, I don't need the extra attention."

"Well you're gonna get it anyways if you plan on using use the Witchblade to fight ghosts and what not. Might as well get a head start."

It didn't seem totally illogical. They did talk about how she was going to use the Witchblade at some point. And given how many ghost threats they faced on average there was no shortage of opportunities.

"He's got a point you know," said Danny, "If you're seen fighting ghosts with the Ghost Boy, people are going to take notice."

"That's not what worries me," she said, looking down at the bracelet, "Frostbite said there was a chance this thing could still have some nasty surprises. Plus, there's still that trench coat guy."

"Yeah, I wonder what his deal was anyways?" wondered Tucker.

"We'll worry about him later. For now, it's probably best if you keep the Witchblade use to a minimum, Sam."

"I'll try," she sighed, "Let's just hope we don't get another big ghost attack and…"

Suddenly, Dash and Kwan burst through the front door of in a panic.

"Everybody run!" exclaimed Kwan, "Big…nasty…dragon!"

"What's he talking about?" wondered Tucker.

Then the whole building rumbled as thundering footsteps drew closer. The windows cracked and half-eaten meals fell to the floor. Then a loud, monstrous roar echoed from the streets outside, blowing out the glass and revealing what the commotion was.

"Survey says…a big nasty dragon," said Sam.

"That's not all. Look who's on his back," said Danny.

Outside, Prince Aragon roared with a vengeance as panicked masses fled the scene. On his back was Walker, armed with a pair of binoculars and a few tools of law enforcement he brought along to apprehend the Ghost Boy. He had no qualms about making a scene. All that mattered was bringing Danny Phantom into his custody.

"Come on out, Danny Phantom!" bellowed Walker over a bull horn, "I know you can hear me! You're under arrest for crimes against the Ghost Zone! Are you gonna come quietly or is this gonna get messy?"

"Do you really expect him to fall for that?!" exclaimed Prince Aragon.

"Hell no," grinned Walker, "All part of the procedure. Now let's show him we mean business!"

Aragon gladly abided, belching forth a wall of flame that melted the top half of the Nasty Burger roof display. This sent everybody inside into a panic. Screaming and yelling broke out as everybody in the restaurant fled in terror. But that was just fine with Walker. He wasn't playing around this time. If Danny Phantom didn't come forward, his whole town would suffer and they knew he wasn't going to let that happen. But while the chaos spread, Sam realized something from the exchange.

"Hey, isn't that the same dragon who kidnapped me?!" she exclaimed.

"You mean the dragon who's also a prince you helped de-throne?" said Tucker, "That can't be good."

"You think?" said Danny as he eyed Walker, "You guys find some cover. I'll take care of the newest Odd Couple."

Not waiting for an answer, Danny jumped behind the Nasty Burger counter where he transformed into Danny Phantom. He quickly took to the air, flying out of the now decimated building and grazing Walker in the process. This further infuriated the prince while Walker grinned in anticipation.

"Glad you decided to show your face, punk," taunted Walker, "So how's this gonna go down?"

"The only thing going down is you two!" shot Danny, "Did you have to destroy the Nasty Burger? Now where am I going to eat fatty foods?"

"Eat this, peasant!" bellowed Prince Aragon.

The angry dragon spewed a new round of fire towards his adversary. Danny narrowly avoided it, but got a little singed on the next few rounds.

"Whoa! Go easy on the jalapeños!" he said as he began evasive maneuvers.

While the fight escalated outside, Sam and Tucker made it out through the debris. Everybody had long since fled and Tucker was urging Sam to do the same. But as she watched Danny dodge the fiery onslaught from the dragon prince, she stopped before going too far.

"Come on, Sam! We have to go!" urged Tucker.

"No…I've gotta help him," said Sam, shaking off his grip.

"I thought you said you were going to keep the Witchblade use to a minimum until we could learn more about it?"

"I did, but things change," she said intently.

Tucker watched as Sam summoned the power of the Witchblade, holding her hand up high as the gauntlet formed over her arm and the life-like armor covered her body. Only this time, she used the power to alter her appearance so nobody would recognize her. Her hair shifted from black to red and sprung out from the ponytail she usually kept it in. It also altered her eye color so that now they were all black with red irises. It wasn't exactly what Sam had in mind, but it was good enough for now. Now in full form, she prepared to join the chaos. It was a daunting first test against Walker and Prince Aragon. But if she was going to get into this superhero game she had to start somewhere.

"Here goes nothing…" she said, setting aside lingering reservations.

As she rushed to the scene, Danny was still dodging the fiery assault. At times he returned the attack with a barrage of ghost rays, but Aragon swatted them away with his tail. He then tried to swipe him with his oversized claws, forcing Danny to fly higher. But that only opened him up to more fire attacks. He tried to keep dodging them, but eventually one landed and he got burned on the arm.

"Yeow! Talk about extra crispy," groaned Danny.

"Ha!" taunted Walker, "You're gonna have to do better than that! Fry him!"

"With pleasure," said Aragon.

Spreading his wings, the former prince created a large gust that knocked Danny off balance. Then he spewed another round of fire. Danny had no other choice than to make a ghost shield, but it was so hot it broke and he was sent tumbling to the ground. His head was ringing, not to mention overheated. He looked up to see the massive beast hovering over him, roaring in a rage. Walker was ready to bring him in. He wasn't about to let him slip away this time.

"You're going down, Phantom!" he proclaimed.

"You first!" said an unexpected voice.

Before Walker could turn around, a concentrated yellow energy beam knocked him off the dragon's. If he had been quick enough he would have seen Sam standing on the sidewalk next to the dragon, grinning to herself at her first successful hit

"Arrrrrggghhhh!" he yelled as he slammed against a nearby van.

"Ooh, that's gotta hurt," commented Sam.

Prince Aragon turned around to see what had just happened. To his surprise he saw an armor clad Sam Manson, her arm still simmering from the blast. She looked different in that mysterious armor, but he still recognized her and went into a rage.

"You!" he bellowed, "I remember you, girl! You cost me my kingdom!"

"Is that anyway to treat your ex-fiancé?" she grinned.

"Rrrrrraaaaahhhhhhhhhh!"

The former prince erupted in a fury of fiery blasts. As much as he hated Danny Phantom, he hated this girl just as much. He dared to reject his hand and poisoned his subjects with modern ideas. For this she had to pay. No suit of armor would protect her from his wrath.

Sam formed a shield on her left arm and used it to divert some of the incoming flames. But the power was so intense she had to back away and start maneuvering. Aragon slammed his fists onto the street, knocking her off balance. He then tried to crush her, but she was able to roll away and duck behind another cars. But because of his size, the dragon prince made quick work of them, crushing them as if they were tin cans.

"Oh boy…this hero stuff is tougher than I thought," she groaned.

While she avoided the dragon, Danny came to and saw what was going on. He had been out of it for a moment, unsure of what caused Walker to back off when he was on a roll. Then he saw Sam in full Witchblade form, taking on Prince Aragon by herself.

"Oh no…Sam," he dreaded, "Hold on!"

"Oh no you don't!" shouted Walker, grabbing him from behind before he could get away, "You and I aren't finished yet!"

"Errrrrr! Let me go, Walker! I've gotta help Sam!"

"I'd worry less about her and more about you," he said menacingly, "You're the one who brought an illegal energy into the Ghost Zone and you're gonna pay…you and your girlfriend!"

"She's not my…ahhhhhhhhh!"

Walker didn't give him a chance to make a comeback. Using his officially sanctioned ecto-tasers, he shocked Danny Phantom into submission. He fell to the ground, groaning in pain. Walker was about to slap some restrains on him, but he refused to go quietly and countered with a solid punch to the face. Walker fell back, but he knew he had Danny Phantom on the ropes. He didn't need some oversized dragon to keep him from bringing in his suspect.

"You wanna play rough, kid? I'm game," said Walker, cracking his knuckles.

"Bring it on, rent-a-cop!" said Danny.

Walker lunged forth, attempting to tase him again. This time Danny was ready, knocking the device out of his hand and delivering a solid kick to the gut followed by a couple of punches to the face. This knocked Walker back, but he didn't slow down and stepped up his attack. Danny went on the defensive, backing away towards the street again. All the while Sam was still fighting the dragon by herself and Tucker was taking cover in the Nasty Burger, using his PDA to snap pictures of the whole scene.

"Man, this is intense!" he said.

Over with Sam, Prince Aragon was running out of cars to smash and Sam was running out of room to work with. Her shields could protect her from the flame, but not the whipping tail of the dragon. She tried to counter with energy blasts of her own, aiming for the head and eyes. She didn't land as many blows as she liked. Her aim was still off. But the blows she did land left their mark, except it wasn't enough to stop him.

"You can't keep running girl! I shall have my revenge!" bellowed the former prince.

He delivered another tail whip. This time Sam wasn't fast enough to dodge it and it sent her flying back towards the Nasty Burger where she landed on a table still covered with food.

"Ooh, that's gotta hurt," cringed Tucker.

"Ugh…you think?!" groaned Sam as he helped her up, "This hero stuff is harder than I thought. I can't get a clear shot at him."

"Too bad you can't fly. That always seemed to help Danny out."

"I know, but I don't think flight is part of the Witchblade's…"

But before she could finish, the ancient relic came to life. It was as if it had heard Tuckers comments because on her back, a series of tendrils shot out and were linked together by a thin, ruby-colored shell that resembled the main jewel on the gauntlet. They formed a pair of Witchblade style wings. It wasn't a skill she worked on in her training, but they would have to do.

"Okay, I stand corrected," said Sam, grinning at this new development.

"But do they work?" asked Tucker.

"Only one way to find out!"

Taking firm control of the Witchblade, Sam took to the air and shot out the window of the Nasty Burger. Adrenaline surged through her system as the power of the gauntlet fueled her determination. Her sudden transformation caught Aragon off guard and Sam was able to deliver a solid punch to the jaw.

"That's for getting ketchup stains on my armor!" she said.

"You little…"

"Whelp? Punk? Snob? Honestly, can't you come up with anything else?" taunted Sam as she swooped in for another attack.

Now the prince was really getting annoyed. He attempted to swat her out of the sky, but now that she was air-born that was much more difficult. Sam got a quick grasp of the Witcblade's flight mechanics. After seeing Danny fly so many times it was almost second nature to her. Once she got going, she began firing a barrage of energy blasts. The damage began to pile up and Prince Aragon was running out of steam. But it still wasn't enough.

"Time to put a stop to this thing," she said, "Okay think…the Witchblade can form any weapon. So which weapon is best at slaying a giant fire-breathing dragon?"

She didn't have a lot of time to think about it. Prince Aragon began spewing more rounds of fire, which she narrowly avoided. She looked over at Danny, who was still fighting off Walker. She had to help him. Then she caught a glimpse of the dragon's neck and remembered something from the last time she fought this dragon.

"That's it! The necklace gives him his power!" she exclaimed, "Somehow I probably should have remembered that."

Swooping down towards the dragon, Sam formed a new weapon to fight this beast. The gauntlet on her arms shifted into a couple of hook-shaped blades that were attached to chains that were firmly linked to her wrists. With a confident grin, she flew around the face of the enraged beast, who was growing increasingly annoyed.

"Hold still so I can burn you to your mortal bones!" he roared.

"Burn this you overgrown lizard!"

She dodged another fire blast and flew around she was hovering right behind his head. She then spun her hooked-shaped blades and flung them at his neck where they latched onto the necklace. Upon feeling this, Aragon began bucking his head and back. He knew what she was trying to do and he wasn't going to let her get away with it.

"Errrrrrrr! Get off my neck!"

"Whoa there! Take it easy, Bronco!"

But the dragon prince didn't let up. He took to the air and kept thrashing his neck, trying to get Sam off. But she held on tight, pulling hard on the chains and going along for the bumpy ride. From the Nasty Burger, Tucker jumped out onto the streets so he could get a better look. He continued taking pictures on his PDA. These were some images. They were sure to make a killer addition to the footage he was working on.

"That's it, Sam! Ride 'em, Cowgirl!" he yelled in encouragement.

Sam held on with all her might, grasping the Witchblade chains and using her wings to stabilize herself from the mid-air thrashing motions of the dragon. He carried her through the air, flying high up into the clouds and pulling off steep dives that would put roller coasters to shame. It was times like this Sam was glad she was a vegetarian because the contents in her stomach were doing back-flips at this point. For the sake of her stomach and the rest of Amity Park for that matter, she had to end this. And she saw her opportunity when the former prince went into another dive.

"I'll squash you like a bug!" he warned.

"Oh no! Not that!" said Sam in a mocking tone, "You'll ruin my pretty new armor!"

"I'll ruin more than that!"

Grinning to herself, Sam waited for the right moment as Prince Aragon was at a near vertical angle, prepared to ram himself into the street if he had to in order to get this girl off his back. She had to time this perfectly. Once he got below the building skyline, she would make her move. Too slow and she would be street pizza and too quick and he might pick up on it. All of her training thus far had to kick in here. She and the Witchblade hadn't been together for long, but they would really have to come together here.

"Wait for it…just a little bit further," said Sam intently.

When she was finally in reach, she made her move. She released one of the hooked blades from the net and flung it onto the nearest object on top of a building, which just so happened to be a billboard advertising Vlad's Mayor campaign. Once secures, she grasped both chains firmly and tugged just as the former prince prepared to pull up. And with a deafening 'snap' the necklace that gave him his power broke.

"Oh poo…" he dreaded.

Still going at breakneck speed from his dive, Prince Aragon shifted back into his human form and impacted the street below with a painful thud. He hit the street so hard he left a mini-crater in his wake. Even for a ghost, it was a painful landing.

"Ooh, talk about your fall from grace," cringed Tucker.

Groaning in defeat, the former prince looked up at the sunny sky with blurred vision. He was so out of it he could barely move. He then saw a figure loom over him. It was Sam and she had his necklace in one hand and a Fenton Thermos in the other.

"You're new kingdom awaits," she said triumphantly.

"I hate you," groaned Aragon.

He didn't put up a struggle as he was sucked into the Fenton Thermos. Upon slapping the lid on, Sam smiled in triumph. Her first test as a super-powered teenager had been a tough one. A giant fire-breathing dragon wasn't exactly good training ground, but she pulled through and the Witchblade had proven its worth.

"Not bad," she said, staring down at the gauntlet, "You and I might just get along after all."

While Sam finished off the dragon, Danny was gaining the upper hand against Walker. Having lost the last of his ghost weapons, he took quite a beating. The punches and kicks mounted, leaving him weakened. Looking for an edge, he saw his discarded ecto-taser that had been lost earlier in the fight and flew swiftly towards it.

"You're testing my patience, Ghost Boy!" yelled Walker.

"You know what your problem is, Walker? You need to chill," quipped Danny.

His eyes flashed blue and just as Walker picked up the weapon, his hand was hit by an ice ray. It froze his hand and the weapon. And when Walker tried to activate it, the ecto-taser short circuited and shocked him instead.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" he yelled, grasping his hand and falling to the ground.

"I could make a 'don't tase me bro' comment here. But that's been overplayed. So…"

Danny delivered one last ghost ray that sent Walker flying back towards the Nasty Burger. As he struggled to pick himself up, he was suddenly sucked into a Fenton Thermos by Tucker, who by now had filled up his hard drive with more than enough pictures for their archives.

"So much for Walker," he said, "He didn't even swear revenge in typical bad-guy form."

Then a booming voice echoed from the thermos.

"You little punk! Let me out! I swear I'll lock you in a cell so dark you'll never find your way out! You hear me, Ghost Boy?! You haven't seen the last of me!"

"Never mind," groaned Tucker as he put the thermos away.

With the fight over Danny flew over to Sam, who was still in her Witchblade form. At the same time she called back her wings and lowered the mask she used to conceal her face. For Danny, she was quite a sight. The bikini-like ensemble coupled with the armor that covered her arms and legs looked attractive to say the least. He had been worried about her since she had never fought in a super-powered battle before. But she held her own, taking down the Dragon Prince and helping to save the day.

"Are…you okay, Sam?" he asked instinctively.

"Are you kidding?!" she exclaimed "I just fought a giant dragon and won! I'm better than okay! Is this how you feel every time after you beat the bad guys and save the day?"

"I know. It's really something," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "But you get used to it."

"I'll bet," she grinned, still on an adrenaline high.

A brief silence came over them as they shifted back into their human forms. While fighting crazy ghosts and saving Amity Park was a normal triumph for them, it felt different with Sam using the Witchblade and fighting by his side. Not that he minded the help, but fighting ghosts alone was hard and this felt like it could be the beginning of something more.

"So uh…does this make you my sidekick or something?" said Danny.

"I was thinking something more along the lines of partner. Sidekick sounds so demeaning," she replied.

"Partner it is, then," smiled Danny, "You handled yourself pretty good for a first time superhero, Sam. Oh I mean…Witchblade."

"Thanks," she said, blushing at his words, "I had a good role model."

Now it was Danny's turn to blush. But the idea of him and Sam being partners definitely had its appeal. It felt right. They both had superpowers. They both wanted to help people. Why couldn't they be partners? They were a good team even before the Witchblade. Now they had even more in their ghost fighting arsenal and given how much tougher they were becoming, they would need it. The only problem was that Tucker might start feeling left out.

Their spirits were high as they made off before the authorities arrived. But unknown to Danny and his friends, they were being watched every step of the way by, Ian Nottingham. Even when everybody fled at the sight of a giant dragon, he stayed behind and watched the fight unfold from beginning to end. What he observed was both intriguing and disturbing. Not only did the girl have a better handle over the Witchblade, but with the ghost boy by her side they were a formidable foe. Even with his skill, subduing them wouldn't be easy.

Taking out his phone, Ian called his master to report what he saw.

"_Ian? What's your status?"_

"Master, the girl is learning to wield the Witchblade faster than we expected. She's already using it to slay ghosts and with that Danny Phantom watching over her bringing her in may be a challenge."

"_I see…I was afraid of this. I'll step up our efforts on our end. If we're to have any luck of separating her from the Witchblade we must do it soon."_

"But how will you capture her? She's a stubborn little brat who isn't just going to hand over her new power!"

"_Let me worry about that, Ian. I already have a plan to bring her here. You just have to keep an eye on her."_

"Whatever," groaned Ian, "Let's just get this over with. Hanging around teenagers all day wears on your nerves after a while."

"_Suck it up, Ian. It'll all be over soon enough."_

The line went dead and Ian was left to continue his mission. Looking back towards Danny, Tucker, and Sam he let out a frustrated sigh. All this spying had better be worth it. Something about these kids just didn't sit right. But he trusted his master. Whatever he had planned, he was certain it would work out for the best. He only hoped he would get a chance at revenge for what these punks did to him earlier. Teenagers or not, he didn't take kindly to humiliation. Once the Witchblade was in Kenneth's possession, no ghostly powers would protect them from his wrath.

* * *

**Up next: Irons makes his move and Sam faces a difficult decision.**


	6. Warning

**The Wielder  
Chapter 6: Warning**

* * *

**Casper High**

It had been three days since the incident at the Nasty Burger and news about Danny Phantom's new partner spread rapidly. The papers were always quick to report Danny's exploits, even after he was taken off the list of public enemies. And an oversized dragon in the middle of downtown attracted plenty of reporters with cameras. Now Sam was officially in the mix. Rumors were already running wild. Some said she was a ghost, some said she was some kind of mutant, and there were even a few that said she was an alien. Even Danny's parents got interested in it and started investigating. But it was doubtful they would find anything. Their specialty was ghosts, not supernatural relics. And luckily, nobody recognized her. The red hair and black eyes were enough to fool the masses.

But aside from the speculation over the origins of Amity Park's latest supernatural fighter, there was also intrigue into her connection with Danny Phantom. They appeared fighting together so it was only logical people started making connections. One of the most popular was that she was the 'ghostly lover' of the ghost boy. Danny and Sam brushed that off of course, but given they were never too forward with the media, there was only gossip to go on. And reactions were varied.

"Oh my gosh, did you see this latest exposé?" exclaimed Paulina as she, Dash, and Kwan hung out near their lockers, "They say this new Witch Girl could be Danny Phantom's girlfriend! His girlfriend?!"

"Calm down, Paulina. I think it's cool!" said Dash, "The guy deserves a girlfriend. Especially one that wears an outfit that hot!"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind playing dragon with her!" said Kwan, giving Dash a high five.

Paulina responded by swatting them both with the paper. Then in a fit of overly dramatic tears, she ran off.

"You boys are jerks! Now the Ghost Boy will never be mine! Never!"

Paulina's show didn't go unnoticed. Along the way she passed Danny, Sam, and Tucker as they got their books from their lockers. While Danny was somewhat torn at her display, Sam didn't care so much.

"Drama queen," she scoffed.

"She should really stop reading the tabloids," said Tucker as he picked up the paper she crumpled up and tossed along the way, "I mean seriously, a race of aliens living inside Mount Rushmore? How gullible do they think we are?"

Tucker was about to throw the paper in the trash, but like all curious readers the outlandish stories kept him hooked. He tried to resist. He couldn't let this evil fabricated press grab hold of him. But there were limits to human endurance.

"Hmm…aliens huh?" he said, opening up the paper.

"Clearly gullible enough," sighed Danny, "But seriously, it's been only a few days and the Witch Girl is hot gossip."

"I still wish they chose a better name," said Sam as she opened her locker, "I mean seriously, Witch Girl?"

"At least it's better than Inviso-Bill," argued Danny.

"Whoever comes up with this stuff should have their head examined," she said, grabbing the tabloid from Tucker.

"Hey! I wasn't finished with that!"

"You're brain will thank me later," said Sam.

Using the Witchblade, she shredded the paper into tiny bits and tossed it in a nearby trashcan. It should have been a given that her new public image would have some rough patches. Already they were giving her stupid names and speculating where she came from. Not only that, they were making a connection between her and Danny. They were already calling her his girlfriend. So not only would they have to deal with scrutiny from friends and peers, now they had to deal with the press. It was like the world was conspiring to get them to confess their feelings when they were still working things out.

"So how much longer will this tabloid scrutiny last?" groaned Sam.

"Wish I could tell you, but I'm still waiting for mine to be over with," sighed Danny.

"This is seriously messing with my attitudes towards freedom of the press."

"You get used to it," he said light-heartedly, "It comes with the territory of being a superhero."

"Doesn't make these stories any less annoying."

"I know. Just look at them. They actually think you're Danny Phantom's girlfriend. Isn't that crazy?"

"Yeah…crazy," she said, her voice shifting slightly.

Danny and Sam fell silent, forced to look away to hide their blush. It had to be a major sign when wild tabloid stories had some truth to them. Even though they hadn't gotten to that point just yet, that didn't stop them from acting like it.

"Clueless," sighed Tucker.

"Shut up, Tucker," they said simultaneously, which only earned them another laugh.

* * *

**Amity Park Plaza Hotel – Vlad and Kenneth**

Vlad wiped the sweat off his forehead as he finished installing the last of the power cells that would power his fleet of machines. Several days of hard work and constant pandering to Kenneth's impatience was almost over. Even for a half-ghost, it was exhausting. Ever since Irons heard about the so-called Witch Girl in the news he was intent on getting these machines ready ahead of schedule. He didn't understand the intricacies of transferring supernatural energy from one being to another. One slip up and they could both be fried. But nothing would dissuade him at this point. And besides, his impatience gave Vlad a chance to put in a few extra fail-safes.

As much as he wanted what Kenneth was offering, Vlad was not so naïve to think that he wasn't capable of screwing him over. Kenneth Irons was a cut-throat businessman just like him. If there was an opportunity to get away with something, he would take it. That meant it was up to him to make sure that if he dared to cross him, he would pay the price.

"How close are we, Vlad?" asked Kenneth as he walked in with a newspaper and some coffee.

"Almost there," he said, "You'll be happy to know that the power cells are in place. Now all that's left is to calibrate the transference mechanism."

"And how long will that take?"

"It should be finished by tonight so if I were you, I'd have my reward ready. And since you've pushed me to finish ahead of schedule, I might require some minor compensation."

Kenneth groaned. There was no such thing as 'minor' compensation to Vlad Masters. He always demanded more. It was one of his defining traits that showed he hadn't been born into riches. He usurped them.

"I'll pay it," said Kenneth grudgingly, "Just be ready. I plan on bringing the girl in very soon."

"And just how are you planning to do that?" said Vlad skeptically, "You said the power of the Witchblade grows the longer its attached to the wielder and that Nottingham fool already failed once at bring them in. What makes you so certain you'll be successful this time?"

Kenneth scoffed. Vlad may have been brilliant in ghostly matters, but a brilliant tactician he was not.

"That's your problem, Masters. Your only solutions involve force. But as my father always said, why use force when deceit works so much better?"

Vlad looked at him strangely. He wasn't sure what he meant by that, but the look on his face said he definitely had a plan.

"Just make sure the machine is ready by tonight," said Kenneth strongly, "I'll bring the Manson girl in. I've already taken the necessary measures."

* * *

**Amity Park – Park**

"RRRRRAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The all too familiar sound of a giant ghost monster echoed through the park as it stomped and slashed anything in its wake. It had been a few hours since school let out and Danny, Tucker, and Sam were just passing by on their way home when the creature shot out from a nearby sewer growling and snarling menacingly at innocent bystanders. It was nearly 30 feet tall, had a crocodile-like face, lizard-like scales, and an array of sharp teeth that would have put a Great White Shark to shame. Naturally, Danny and Sam sprang into action and began fighting it. But it wouldn't go down quietly.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Sam as she blocked another slash with a hastily formed shield, "I don't know which is worse the claws or the sewer smell!"

The creature then swiped its tale at her, sending her flying against a tree.

"Ugh…definitely the claws," she groaned.

"Hold on, Sam! I'll slow it down!" yelled Danny as he swooped in from above.

Taking aim with his ice blasts, Danny unleashed a beam of intense cold that hit the reptilian creature. It let out a loud roar, thrashing wildly as ice formed around its limbs and froze it into place. Now immobilized, Sam picked herself up and took aim.

"I'm normally against cruelty to animals, but this time I'll make an exception!"

She took aim and fired a concentrated burst of energy that hit the monster head on, knocking it back hard and effectively taking the fight out of the massive creature. It let out a feeble growl as it lay on its side, struggling to get up. But Danny wouldn't give it a chance and finished the job by freezing it in place with ice.

"That ought to hold it," said Danny triumphantly, "Now where's Tucker with the thermos?"

As if on cue, Tucker emerged from over the hill short of breath with the thermos in hand. He was panting hard, clearly sounding out of shape for someone without superpowers.

"Next time…don't leave the thermos in your locker," he said breathlessly.

"You need to get in shape, Tucker," said Sam as she caught the thermos.

"Easy for you to say! You guys have superpowers!"

Rolling her eyes, Sam captured the creature in the Fenton Thermos and sealed it shut. They then made sure nobody was looking and powered down. It seemed like a quiet afternoon was a lot to ask for them. Why all these creatures kept getting out was anybody's guess. Ever since Vlad moved his operations to Amity Park the number of attacks seemed to be increasing. Either he was behind them or leaving the task of stopping them up to them. Both were probably partially true.

"So much for a quiet afternoon in the park," sighed Sam.

"Told you…we'd have better luck…at the arcade," said Tucker, still catching his breath.

"Since when has that made a difference?" said Danny, "These things tend to find us wherever we go."

"At least there's two of us now," added Sam, "So you up for a movie and a pizza?"

"Can't I catch my breath first?" whined Tucker.

"Boy you are out of shape," chuckled Danny.

The three friends made their leave, hoping this was the last they had seen of giant ghost monsters for the day. But monsters weren't their only concern. Ian Nottingham was still watching their every move and at long last he would have his chance at revenge.

Kenneth called him earlier and told him that the machine was nearly ready. All they had to do was get the girl and the Witchblade. Based on what he just saw that was no small task. She and the ghost boy just took out a 30-foot-monster without much of a struggle. Force was clearly a risky option. But Irons had given him detailed instructions that would get around that. As much as he would have liked another shot at that girl, he would get his chance soon enough.

Ian impatiently waited by a corner as they neared his position. They were still going on about mindless adolescent musings. It was times like this he wished he was back dealing with the mob.

"You know, I think I'm really getting used to the idea of being the wielder of the Witchblade," said Sam as she looked over the bracelet that concealed the ancient weapon, "I feel it chose me for a reason."

"Well Frostbite did say it was alive. Guess it has a thing for vegetarian Goths who fight ghosts in their spare time," commented Danny.

"Sounds picky," said Tucker, "No wonder it only chooses women."

"Since I just fought a giant ghost monster I'll pretend I didn't hear that. But seriously, I really feel a connection with this thing. I can't explain it, but…"

It was at this point Ian stepped in.

"That connection will be the death of you," he said, stepping out from the corner.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker each fell back, immediately recognizing him as the stranger who attacked them.

"You!" exclaimed Sam, forming the Witchblade gauntlet over her arm, "What do you want?! Looking for a rematch?"

"Easy Miss Manson, put that away. I'm not here to fight," he said.

"And we should believe you, why?" said Danny, his eyes flashing bright green.

"Because I have information about that Witchblade you need to know."

That got their attention. There was so much about this man that seemed menacing, but he was nothing if not serious. Any guy who wielded a sword like he did was proof enough of that. And the look in his eye was telling. It was enough to get Sam to take it seriously.

"Wait…" she said, stepping in front of Danny and confronting the man directly, "Just who are you anyways? And why are you so interested in the Witchblade?"

Ian remained calm and poised, taking a deep breath as he put his master's plan into action.

"My name is Ian Nottingham," he said respectfully, "I am an associate of Kenneth Irons."

"Irons? You mean the rich guy who brought that exhibit to the museum?" said Tucker.

"The very same. And as I'm sure you figured out already, the Witchblade was part of that exhibit. In fact, Mr. Irons considers it his crown jewel. You have no idea how long he dedicated himself to finding that relic. His father began the search and he finished it. He believed in the legends surrounding the Witchblade. He knows more about it than anybody, which is why you must come with me!"

"Hold on, Mr. Nottingham," said Danny, still very much suspicious of this man, "Sam's not going anywhere until you tell us the truth! Just what kind of power are we dealing with anyways?"

"A very ancient one," he replied ominously, "A power that is traced back to a time when the two primal forces, the Darkness and the Angelus, were in a constant state of conflict. They were the ones that spawned the Witchblade. And it was that power that brought balance to an otherwise chaotic world."

"We know that already!" said Sam impatiently, "Tell us a part of the legend we haven't heard!"

"I'm sure you already know the basics. The Witchblade attaches itself to a female wielder and together they use the power within to maintain the balance. But the merge between Witchblade and wielder has an unfortunate side-effect…one that inevitably drives the wielder mad and leads her to an untimely death."

Sam's expression paled. Death was a pretty big side-effect. Mad was right up there with it. Looking down at the gauntlet that was fused to her arm, she felt an ominous sense of dread. It made her sick to her stomach. One of her greatest fears from the moment this thing merged with her was that it would somehow drive her mad. This man seemed to confirm it.

"No…" said Danny, looking over at Sam and then back at Ian, "You're lying! How do we know you're telling the truth?!"

"Just look at what happened to the Witchblade's past wielders. Cleopatra, one of the earliest wielders committed suicide. Joan of Arc, who said many times that she heard voices, was burnt at the stake. It's how the Witchblade works. First it merges with the wielder and bonds with her until she comes to trust it. For a time, she might even feel a kinship with it."

Sam gulped at that. She had just told her friends about how she was growing fond of the Witchblade. Did that mean it was starting to take over? Was it just false comfort so it could weaken her to the point where it could take advantage of her? Ian wasn't done yet and she had a feeling it would only get worse.

"Then it takes over, driving her mad until she is eventually consumed. It starts as just a voice, but then it grows. You may not feel it now, but soon the person you are will be overwhelmed by the Witchblade. To it you're just a shell…a vessel for it to use its power. And once it takes control, it'll kill everybody you care about. The Witchblade knows no compassion. It'll take everything…your spirit, your soul, and your free will. It'll use you as it has used countless others."

Sam, Danny, and Tucker fell silent. They were in such a state of shock and dread no words could possibly articulate what they were feeling right now. Danny moved closer to Sam, watching as she placed her other hand over the gauntlet. Even though there was so much about this man that didn't seem trustworthy, who's to say there wasn't some truth to his words? Frostbite had told them from the beginning that information about the Witchblade was scarce. Maybe this was the reason why.

"In other words…if I keep the Witchblade I'll lose everything?" said Sam in a mute tone.

"Yes," affirmed Ian, "As the Witchblade takes over, many will fall…starting with the ones you care for most. And I know you don't want that."

"No…I don't," she said, looking at Danny and Tucker intently, "Is there a way to stop it?"

Ian's expression shifted. He always maintained an emotionless poise, but for the sake of earning this girl's trust he moved closer in a show of compassion.

"That I don't know. When the Witchblade saw you, it must have triggered the energy within. That's why it sought you out. Kenneth sent me after it in hopes of preventing it from merging with another wielder, but as you already know I was too late. I thought I could fight to get it off. But the Witchblade had other ideas."

"No kidding," said Tucker, the memories of that fight still hanging strong, "Does that mean the merge is permanent?"

"If it was, why would I bother confronting you again?" quipped Ian, "The way I see it, you have two choices Miss Manson. You could either ignore my warning and go about your life until you're driven mad by the Witchblade and kill everybody you care about or you could come with me and let Mr. Irons help. The choice is yours, but I warn you not to take it lightly. There are more lives at stake than just your own."

It didn't leave Sam with many options. The thought of her going crazy and killing her friends didn't sit well with her for a second. Her friends were the most important part of her life. She couldn't bear the thought of her turning on them. There was no way she could live with that sort of thing. She swallowed hard, holding back tears as she looked back at Danny. He looked just as concerned. He didn't want to lose her any more than she wanted to lose him. If there was any truth to what this man was saying, it was worth taking seriously.

"So what's it going to be?" asked Ian, "Are you going to come with me or are you going to accept the fate of all wielders?"

"Never was one for the whole fate thing," she muttered, "Fine, I'll come with you. Are you sure this Irons guy can come up with a way to get this thing off of me?"

"He's already figured that out," he assured, "Just come with me and I promise it'll be over by tonight. You'll be back to hanging out with your friends and fighting ghosts in no time."

"Good enough for me," said Sam, staring bitterly at the gauntlet.

She was ready to accept this man at his word. These revelations helped make sense of a few things like how it found her and why he was after her that first day. That didn't mean it was true, but it didn't mean it was false either. Perhaps this Kenneth Irons could help her. He was after all the man who found the Witchblade. If there was anybody who do something about this thing it was him. Danny, however, wasn't so convinced.

"Wait…" said Danny, grabbing Sam by the shoulder, "I'm coming with you."

"Danny, you heard the man. The closer you are to me the better the chances are you'll get hurt!" said Sam strongly.

"I'll risk it. Besides, I'd like to meet this Irons guy. Because no offense, Mr. Nottingham sir, but I don't trust you."

Ian scoffed. This boy was trying to sound tough, but he was fourteen for crying out loud. Never-the-less, he had to deal with him. He was this girl's best friend. At least this way he wouldn't have to hunt him down to get his revenge on him.

"Fine, I'll let you come with us. Kenneth told me one of you might follow anyhow. Teenagers are stubborn like that."

"Comment on our wild youth later. Can we just get this over with already?" said Sam impatiently, "Where is this guy anyways?"

"Not far," assured Ian, "He's been working out of a pent house at the Amity Park Plaza Hotel. I'll call and let him know we're coming."

"Good, because I need to have a word alone with my friends," said Danny.

While Ian took out his cell phone and called his master, Danny led Sam and Tucker out of hearing distance from this man. As worried as he was for Sam, they couldn't just take this guy at his word. What he described was dangerous, but that didn't mean his intentions were good. For that reason, they had to make plans of their own.

"What are you doing, Danny? This guy my be our only hope!" said Sam under her breath.

"I don't trust him, Sam. What if he's not telling the truth?" replied Danny, "Even if the Witchblade is dangerous, how do we know this Irons guy won't make things worse?"

"If you've got a way to prove it I'd love to hear it," she said.

"I don't, but it couldn't hurt to double check," said Danny, "Tucker, you still have that footage from Sam's training?"

"Yeah why? You're not thinking of making a video at a time like this, right?"

"No, but it might come in handy. I want you to gather everything you can and take it to Jazz. Tell her to find out everything she can on the Witchblade. Go to the library, the museum…anywhere you can get more information. If there's any truth to what this Ian guy is saying I want to make sure."

"What makes you think she'll find something we haven't?" asked Sam.

"She's an uptight, detail-oriented, bookworm who once spent three hours researching the history of taxidermy. If anybody can find something we overlooked, it's her."

Nobody argued with that. Jazz may not have been the best at fighting ghost or coming up with good names, but she definitely knew a thing or two about research. This ancient legend seemed right up her alley. And if she did uncover something, they trusted her word more than they trusted Ian.

"Okay, but what do we do if we find something?" asked Tucker.

"Call me on my cell as soon as possible," said Danny, "Hopefully it won't be too late."

"That's not very reassuring," muttered Sam.

"Don't worry. I won't let anyone or anything hurt you. That's a promise."

That got her to smile and even blush a little. Danny smiled back. This was a difficult choice for her. She didn't know what to believe about the Witchblade. It came into her life so suddenly and just like his ghost powers, she struggled with it. She helped him during the difficult times he faced. It was only fair that he return the favor.

"Be careful you guys," said Tucker, "I don't know who this Irons guy is, but if Mr. Happy over there is anything like him I'd watch out."

"Believe me, Tucker, I'm not taking this lightly," said Sam, "I…I just have to know the truth. One way or another I'm gonna find out. I just hope I don't regret this when I do."

With his gear in hand, Tucker waved goodbye and ran off towards the Fenton Works where he hoped Jazz wasn't busy working on extra credit again. Mythology and legends weren't his expertise, but for Sam's sake he would get a crash course in the subject. He trusted Danny to watch over her. It was Ian Nottingham and that boss of his that he worried about.

While Danny and his friends discussed their course of action, Ian let his master know that everything was going according to plan. It happened just as he predicted it would. It wasn't as exhilarating as combat, but it got the job done.

"_So she took the bait?"_

"Yes, she doesn't suspect a thing. Very nice use of a little white lie."

"_In my line of work such skills are necessary. Just make sure she doesn't get any second thoughts. And if that boyfriend of hers gets in the way…you know what to do."_

"Yes, master. You can count on me," said Ian, "We'll be at the hotel in an hour."

"_I'll be waiting."_

Upon closing his phone, Ian turned to the two teens who were now waiting anxiously for him. They still looked at him with great suspicion, but he could care less. He just needed them to believe him for a little bit longer. Then Kenneth will have his relic and he would have his revenge.

* * *

**Up next: Secrets are revealed as Sam and the Witchblade confront Kenneth Irons.**


	7. Half Truths

**The Wielder  
Chapter 7: Half-Truths**

* * *

**Amity Park Plaza Hotel – Inside Irons Limousine **

The ride to the hotel was silent for the most part. Once Danny and Sam agreed to go with Ian, he summoned a limo from Kenneth's hotel that picked them up within fifteen minutes. While inside the car, Ian didn't take his eyes off Danny and Sam the whole time. His stoic gaze still sent chills down their spines, but they had faced scarier things before. This was no different. What made complicated was that it wasn't a ghost or entity they were fighting. This was an ancient relic that may or may not have anything to do with ghosts. At least with ghosts they're easy to tell apart. This Ian Nottingham and his boss, Kenneth Irons, for that matter were a mystery to them. For all they knew they could be worse, but Sam made her decision and that was that.

She still had doubts though. Danny was right to be suspicious of this guy because she couldn't afford to. She was the one the Witchblade had chosen. She was the wielder who held its power. If there was any truth to Ian's claim that the power would take control of her and harm those she cared for most, she had to do something about it. But if Ian was lying and was just using her, she trusted Danny to be there like he always had.

For him, this was more daunting than fighting a ghost. This was saving his best friend. He didn't care how ancient or powerful this Witchblade was, if it did anything to hurt Sam he would help her defeat it. At the same time, if what this guy was telling her was an outright lie he would make sure he paid for it. Nobody was going to hurt Sam on his watch. She meant too much to him. She meant more than he ever could have imagined.

"We're almost there," said Ian, finally breaking the silence, "Mr. Irons says he needs a little more time. Until then, we'll wait outside the pent house."

"Just what exactly is he going to use to help me?" asked Sam, "It's not some freaky ritual that involves animal sacrifice, is it?"

"That's not for me to say," said Ian, "I only do what Mr. Irons tells me to do. The details are none of my business."

"Just out of curiosity, what exactly do you do for this guy anyways? Are you his assistant or something?" asked Danny, "Because I've never heard of an assistant who does menial jobs with a sword."

"That, my boy, would be none of your business," said Ian strongly, "All you need to know is that Mr. Irons has tasked me with taking on this very important matter. The Witchblade is a serious threat and he trusts only me to deal with it directly."

"Does he trust you to deal with ghosts too? Because you seemed pretty comfortable with that sword," pushed Danny.

Ian cast the young boy a menacing glare. He was trying to find out if he was lying. That was abundantly clear. But he was smarter than that. This kid was fourteen for crying out loud. There was no way he was going to let him of all people get the better of him.

"We're here," he said flatly, "No more questions."

As they pulled up to the front entrance, Danny and Sam exchanged glances. Clearly, Ian was not going to give them anymore information than he wanted to. Even if he was lying, he wasn't going to drop them any hints. Hopefully, Tucker and Jazz would have better luck on their end. At this point, they were their only other hope.

* * *

**Fenton Works – Tucker and Jazz**

Upon arriving at Danny's house, Tucker rushed upstairs to find Jazz hard at work on another paper. Again he was out of breath, but shook it off and explained to her their situation. While she had been aware of Sam's new powers to some extent, she hadn't been told the full story by Danny or anybody for that matter. It was an intriguing story to say the least. For once it didn't involve ghosts. As a girl who studied history on the side, it was quite a revelation to learn that an ancient legend was true.

"So if I understand what you're telling me, this Witchblade is some sort of living supernatural weapon that was formed by primordial forces and bonds to a female wielder," she summarized.

"That's the cliff-notes version," said Tucker, "Nobody seems to know that much about this thing. I couldn't even find anything about it on the web."

"Is that why you trusted this Ian guy?" said Jazz, "He sounds like con-man."

"That's why Danny sent me here. He figured if anybody could find something on this thing it would be you."

"Really? He said that?" she said, blushing a little.

"Well…not in so many words, but yeah," said Tucker, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jazz smiled. She knew Danny probably never said it directly. Chances were he phrased it in some immature analogy about her study habits and intelligence. But that didn't matter to her. She knew that was just his way of expressing himself.

"Then grab a book and we'll get started," said Jazz, walking towards her overstuffed bookcase, "You're in luck. I just happened to have some old books on mythology I got from the library. I planned on using them for a paper about the mechanics of intercultural communication through the telling off…"

"Jazz…" groaned Tucker, "Please don't give me the details. Let's just get to work. We're working on a time limit here."

"Oops, sorry," she said sheepishly, "Don't worry, I won't let you guys down!"

Tucker sighed and began helping her sort through some books. Jazz was nice and all, but sometimes her approach to fighting ghosts was off. It had been that way ever since she unofficially joined their team. While there were times she was a big help, old habits die hard. This was one area, however, where her skills as an all around brainiac should come in handy. If the Witchblade had any secrets, they were going to find out before it was too late.

* * *

**Kenneth Iron's Pent House**

After confirming the arrival of the wielder, Kenneth Irons stepped up work on Vlad's machine. So far his plan was working perfectly. The girl fell for his ruse hook, line, and sinker. Even with the power of the Witchblade, she was still just a gullible teenage girl. Putting the fear of loss in her was far more effective than trying to fight her. Now she was more willing to cooperate. And if all went accordingly, the power of the Witchblade would be his tonight.

Vlad had to admit he was impressed. Kenneth may be rough around the edges, but he was smart. He was able to get his adversary to work for him and not against him. It wasn't quite as poetic as besting them in the heat of battle, but it worked. It was far more preferable than dragging this deal out anymore. He was already tired of Kenneth's presence and the constant scrutiny of that Notthingham character. Hopefully the compensation he promised would be worth it. And if he betrayed him, he was well-prepared for that too.

"Are we ready, Vlad?" asked Kenneth as he watched Vlad load a series of programs onto the main console.

"Just about," answered Vlad, "Bear with me, I had to integrate this into my prototype energy draining gauntlet."

"But you've tested this thing, right?"

"Yes, but only on ghosts. I've never tried it on something like the Witchblade. But seeing as how the last experiment showed that it reacts to ecto-energy, the same should apply here. All you need to do is put it on, power it up, and start draining. The glove will do the rest."

"Sounds simple enough," said Kenneth as he looked down at the glove, "And what of the wielder? What affect will it have on her?"

"If I had to guess, it probably won't be pleasant. But since when have you ever cared about that?"

"Just making sure," he said ominously, "I plan on leaving no loose ends."

"Me neither," said Vlad with a half grin.

Vlad watched as Kenneth tried on the oversized gauntlet, which had a series of wires running from it into several machines. It was amazing that it took this much hardware to calibrate this one gauntlet, but if his last experiment showed him anything it was that the Witchblade required special treatment. Not only did it take up a lot of energy, it took a different kind of force to get it to cooperate. In comparison to most other artifacts, it was very stubborn. But that would all change very soon.

"One more thing, Vlad," said Kenneth, "I want you to make yourself scarce once I invite our guests in. I know your history with Danny Phantom and don't want it to interfere. As far as they're concerned, you and I have never been involved."

"I understand. But just in case, I'll stand close by in case something goes wrong. Wouldn't want anything to mess this up now would we?"

"For your sake, I hope not."

"Oh enough with the petty threats, Kenneth!" scoffed Vlad, "I've come this far, haven't I?"

"Doesn't mean you won't screw me over."

"I could say the same for you. But seeing as how neither of us has a choice, that shouldn't be a problem now should it?"

As much as Irons would have liked to believe that, he was too much a realist. He suspected Vlad was up to something, but he didn't come this far to back down now. He was so close to the power of the Witchblade he could feel it in his bones. A lifetime of hardship was building towards this moment. This was more than just taking what he believed was rightfully his. This was destiny. Nothing was going to stop it now.

* * *

**Outside The Pent House**

Upon their arrival, Danny and Sam spent the next two hours waiting impatiently outside the pent house entrance. While Sam sat on a chair staring at the floor, Danny paced restlessly. He kept checking his cell phone, hoping that Tucker and Jazz would call. He knew asking them to research an ancient legend with the window of only a few hours was unrealistic at best, but it was better than just blindly trusting this guy. It didn't help that Ian wouldn't take his eyes of them.

Ian Nottingham was equally anxious. His master told him they were in the final stages of calibrating the machine that would transfer the power of the Witchblade from Sam to a more fitting wielder. They just needed time to make arrangements. His instructions were to remain on guard and not to engage either of them unless he heard otherwise. And if either one of them had second thoughts, he was to do whatever was necessary to keep them here.

"Still no word from Jazz and Tucker," said Danny in a frustrated tone, "They better hurry up. There's no telling how much longer this guy's gonna be."

"Don't remind me," groaned Sam, who kept looking anxiously down at the Witchblade, "At least we have options. If they don't come through, maybe Irons will. It is his artifact after all."

"Do you really believe that, Sam?" asked Danny skeptically, "Or is that just fear talking?"

"It's not fear. It's…"

But Sam stopped herself right there. Who was she kidding? She was afraid. There was no way around it. Even as someone who had seen the toughest, meanest creatures of the Ghost Zone she was scared of what may happen to her because of the Witchblade.

"Okay, maybe I am little scared. It's just that this thing feels like it's a part of me. Even if it is going to drive me crazy the idea of losing it makes me nervous."

"That or maybe it's trying to tell you something," suggested Danny, "It's alive, remember?"

"I know. But should I believe it?"

Danny stopped pacing and sat down next to Sam. The Witchblade was nothing like his ghost powers. At least they didn't have a mind of their own. He couldn't imagine what was going through Sam's head right now, but he was going to be there for her through this whole thing.

"Look, neither one of us really understands what's going on with this thing. But I wouldn't trust the guy in the trench coat anymore than the ancient thing on your arm."

Sam looked up at Ian, who was still as stoic as ever. He didn't comment on what was said. He just stood there, staring at her the same way he did when he first saw her. It still made her skin crawl, giving her all the more reason to take Danny's advice seriously.

She reached over and took his hand in hers. She then gave it a squeeze and cast him a smile. Scared or not, having him by her side made all the difference in the world. Maybe after this mess was over with she could come clean and tell him how she felt. Of course, she thought about that every time it seemed like they weren't going to come out of something intact and every time she chickened out.

Danny smiled back and stayed with her, helping to keep her calm. For a moment they ignored Ian's presence. He just sat with her and waited, knowing that each passing second chipped away at their chances to turn back.

Finally, the doors to the pent house opened and Kenneth Irons stepped out.

"It's time," he said, "Are you ready, Miss Manson?"

Sam swallowed her nervousness and nodded. The man before her didn't look quite as imposing as Ian Nottingham, but he seemed every bit as suspicious.

"Then follow me," said Kenneth, "Your friend may come too."

"Wait, I have questions…" said Sam.

"And I'll answer them," said Kenneth, "In the meantime, let me show you how I'll be helping you."

He wasted no time in getting to the point. It was Kenneth's way of doing business. Sam and Danny exchanged glances. They were still worried, but with no word from Tucker or Jazz they had no choice but to go along.

But as they entered the pent house, Vlad Masters made a quick exit from the pent house by phasing through the wall and slipping into the stairwell. This set off Danny's ghost sense and he swiftly turned towards his right where he thought it came from. But Vlad was too quick. The feeling was gone before he could make sense of it.

"Is everything okay, boy?" asked Ian, trying to rush him in.

"Yeah…everything's fine," he lied, "Just thought I saw something, that's all."

Ian looked at him suspiciously, but remained silent. This kid was too perceptive for his own good. If he kept making scenes like this he may have to rethink Kenneth's non-violent policy. But as long as he went along with everything, he could care less what he thought.

As Sam and Danny followed Mr. Irons inside, they took note of his poise. On the surface, he seemed like a normal rich man. He was dressed in an expensive business suit, no doubt imported from some fancy foreign designer. He also bore the poise and confidence of a multi-billionaire businessman. Sam knew the signs and so did Danny. He didn't seem as dark as Vlad Masters, but there was definitely something to him. And just as they expected, Kenneth put on the face of a friendly businessman.

"I must say it's quite an honor to have the chosen wielder of the Witchblade in my presence," he said with a respectful greeting, "I've had this relic for years and this is the first time it's taken to someone so strongly."

"Uh thanks," said Sam, trying not to sound too freaked out, "And just so we're clear, I didn't take this thing. It came to me. How it did that I'm still trying to figure out."

"It's okay. I believe you," said Irons, "But before we go any further, allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Kenneth Irons, founder and CEO of Irons Industries."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Irons," said Sam, shaking his hand.

"My colleague, Ian, has told me so much about you. He says you and the Witchblade have become quite the pair."

"Yeah, about that…were you the one who sent him to fight us?" said Danny in an apprehensive tone, "Because no offense, but sending a crony with a sword doesn't do well for first impressions."

Kenneth responded with a light-hearted laugh. For a kid his age, he sure tried to be tough. But as always, Kenneth remained cool under pressure.

"I won't deny my actions were a tad brash. All I can say is please accept my apologies. You have to understand that the Witchblade is a dangerous and powerful weapon. I had to act fast or risk losing the relic altogether."

"Guess it wasn't fast enough," muttered Sam.

"Indeed," said Kenneth, "But before I go any further I want to assure you that I only intended to retrieve the Witchblade, not harm you or your ghostly friend here."

"That's another thing!" said Danny, still not convinced, "Why were you spying on us? And how do we know we can trust you if you already know my secret?"

"That was another mistake," he explained, "I sent Ian out to look for signs of the Witchblade. I had no way of knowing the wielder would be friends with the resident ghost boy. But rest assured your secret is safe with me."

"Somehow I don't find that too comforting," said Danny.

This kid was starting to annoy him. Danny was understandably suspicious and rightfully so. His secret identity was clearly very important to him. Too bad it meant nothing to Kenneth. He just stared down the young man and smiled ominously.

"It'll have to do. But enough with the past. Let's focus on the task at hand. I understand you got my message from Ian about the dangers of the Witchblade."

"Oh yes…some danger," said Sam bitterly, "You say this thing really drives people mad?"

"It does. Believe me, I know. As you may have already guessed, I'm somewhat a history buff. My father was a renowned archeologist who specialized in artifacts like the Witchblade. The treasures he uncovered have been in my family for nearly a century and I have taken it upon myself to protect these treasures and the power they hold. And the Witchblade is one of my most coveted possessions."

"Not that I wouldn't love giving it back to you, but we're kind of stuck together," said Sam, showing him the gauntlet, "How exactly do you plan to separate us?"

Kenneth grinned. Her willingness to believe him was strong. Ian must have told her a pretty convincing story about the so-called dangers of the Witchblade. Her gullibility would be his ultimate triumph.

"Come…I'll show you," he told them.

With Ian still watching them from behind, Danny and Sam followed Kenneth into the opulent living room where Kenneth had set everything up. All the furniture and fancy decorations had been pushed to the side and the central area was dominated by several large computer consoles that were powered by an array of generators that were laid out around the perimeter of the room. It was pretty elaborate, resembling the machinery that Danny's parents used to run the Fenton Works. Sam was a little unnerved by the scale, but Ian and Kenneth pushed her on.

"As you can see, I've been working on a way to control the Witchblade for some time," he said, "I had these components shipped here shortly after the relic got out. They weren't specifically designed for a task such as this, but it should do the job."

"Don't you mean, in theory?" said Danny as he looked over some of the machines, "How exactly does this stuff work anyways?"

"With this," said Kenneth as he picked up the high tech gauntlet Vlad integrated into these machines, "Years of research on the Witchblade has led me to many discoveries about its power. While I've never been able to completely unlock its potential, I have uncovered a number of ways to tap the power within."

"In other words you've never done this before," said Sam, who easily read between the lines.

"No," affirmed Kenneth, "But if you want to rid yourself of this cursed relic, this device is your only chance."

It did little to ease Sam's concerns. Looking over the machine, she could only speculate how it worked. Being around the Fenton Works gave her a certain appreciation for high-tech gizmos, but more often than not they didn't work as planned especially the first time around. She felt like a guinea pig for some rich man's experiment. But Irons wasn't giving her much of a choice.

"Okay…" she said, "Let's get this over with."

"Gladly," said Irons with a grin, "Just make yourself comfortable while I power the machine up. You'll be Witchblade-free and on your way home within a half-hour."

Sam managed a slight smile, hiding a myriad of uncertainties. She looked down at the gauntlet, which was yelling at her not to go through with this. She didn't know if it was trying to protect her or just its own well-being. Nothing could be more confusing. If she listened to the Witchblade it may still make her go crazy. If she listened to Kenneth Irons his machine might not work or he may just be messing with her. There were so many ways this could go wrong. There seemed to be no way out of it.

Danny tried to keep her calm while hiding his own concerns. Irons may be optimistic, but there was still something about him he didn't like. He couldn't make a move because Ian Nottingham was right behind them still wielding that same sword he used in their last fight. It was all on Tucker and Jazz now. If they didn't find something soon, the truth may come too late.

'_Hurry Jazz. We're running out of time.'_

* * *

**Fenton Works – Tucker and Jazz**

For two hours straight, Jazz had been pouring over every book on mythology and ancient legends she had. She was like a machine, sifting through page after page of historical jargon that may or may not be true to begin with. There was little to be said about the Witchblade other than what they already knew. For a weapon that supposedly altered the course of history, it kept a pretty low profile. But they were close to something. She could feel it. There was definitely something about this Witchblade that went beyond mere legend. She just had to find out what it was.

Tucker helped along the way, running to the library and picking up as many books he could carry and combing the internet for any other clues. Unlike Jazz, he didn't have the crack research skills that allowed her to focus while reading over endless text. After the first hour his eyelids were already getting heavy. He either needed a nap or some coffee.

"Any luck, Jazz?" said Tucker with a tired yawn.

"Not yet, but we're definitely on the right track," said Jazz as she jotted down more notes.

"That's what you said an hour ago!" he groaned, "What makes you think we'll discover anything in a bunch of library books that we haven't already found already?"

"Well maybe if you did more than just Google it you might find something else."

"You do things your way, I'll stick to what I do best," justified Tucker.

"Be serious, Tucker!" exclaimed Jazz, "Danny and Sam are counting on us! And I'm beginning to think that guy in the trench coat wasn't telling the full story."

"I could have told him that."

"Intuition isn't proof," said Jazz, "There's evidence out there. We just have to find it."

Tucker groaned and turned back to his computer screen. He must have looked at a hundred websites by now and none of them said anything new. Even if they did have something on the Witchblade all it said was it was just some ancient weapon that was the offspring between the Darkness and the Angeles. There was nothing on what it did to the wielder. But he kept at it, knowing Danny and Sam were running out of time.

Jazz tossed aside another book and picked out one from the bottom of the pile. This one caught her eye because of how old it was. But it wasn't so much the age of the book that got her attention as much as the name of the author.

"Hey Tucker, what was the name of that guy you said found the Witchblade?" she asked.

"Kenneth Irons. Why?"

"See for yourself," she said, tossing him the book.

Tucker caught it and looked at it. Sure enough, the author stated was Kenneth Irons. It was a big hard to make out since the cover and pages were pretty worn, but it definitely caught their attention. Either nobody took good care of this book or Kenneth Irons was older than he said he was.

"Irons? Maybe it's his father or something?" suggested Tucker.

"I don't think so. Look on the back page," said Jazz.

Tucker did as she asked and to his surprise, there was a picture of the author. It showed a dated photo of Kenneth Irons with a caption below that said the photo was taken back in the 1920s. Now he was really intrigued. Immediately, Tucker did a search on the computer for Kenneth Irons. The first match led him to the website of Irons Industries and sure enough, there was a photo of Irons on the front page. The resemblance was more than uncanny. It was impossible.

"Wow…he must exercise a lot," said Tucker.

"That or there's something else going on here!" said Jazz as she took the book from him, "Maybe the guy in the picture and the guy Danny and Sam are meeting with right now are one in the same."

"That's impossible! He'd have to be over a hundred years old or something," said Tucker, "Besides, it says on his website that he's Kenneth Irons Jr."

"Just because the internet says it doesn't make it true," said Jazz, "Let's see what the real Irons has to say about the dangers of the Witchblade."

Jazz opened the book and began rapidly skimming the pages. Tucker got up and read with her, noticing that the text was just as dated as the pages. Whoever wrote this definitely wrote it back around the turn of the century. That only added to the weirdness level because if the Kenneth Irons in the picture was the same Kenneth Irons who was allegedly trying to help them, then something was definitely off here.

Tucker could barely keep up as Jazz thumbed through page after page, spending no more than a second on each. She was close to the answers. She could feel it. There was so much information to digest. But they only needed that one piece that would help them save Danny and Sam.

Finally, she got to a part that mentioned the Witchblade. She stopped thumbing through the pages and read intently, quickly finding a passage that seemed to have what they were looking for.

"From the diary of Kenneth Irons," she read, "I have confirmed what I suspected all along. The lost diaries of Joan of Arc reveals that the Witchblade is not only real, it is more powerful than even my father could have imagined. It was said that on the battlefield, her sword came to life. With it, she led the French into battle and it protected her from countless onslaughts."

"Sounds like the Witchblade to me," said Tucker.

"There's more," said Jazz as she read on, "A soldier was documented as asking her about her seemingly godly power to wield weapons. She said she had a gift that came to her early in life. It bonded with her and nourished her will to fight injustice. The soldier then asked how she could wield such power. She responded by saying 'It chose me for a reason. It saw in me the good it needed to carry out God's will. Without that good, it would have slain me the moment I touched it.'"

"That still doesn't mean it's not dangerous," said Tucker, "Remember what happened to Joan of Arc? She was burned at the stake!"

"I know! I'm looking!" she said as she scanned rapidly.

Jazz read more passages, which told more of Joan of Arc's exploits. Then she got to the end where Kenneth mentioned her last diary entry that was written the day before she was executed.

"Oh my gosh! Listen to this!" exclaimed Jazz, "It says 'They captured me and tried to break my will. But I wouldn't let them. They wanted my power. But they can't have it. They'll never have it. The blade left me last night. It left because I made it. I couldn't let it fall into the wrong hands. And I knew it would listen to me because it must. The blade can never disobey the wielder. My fate is sealed. But that of the Witchblade is just beginning.'"

This was the evidence they were looking for. It confirmed what they suspected. Kenneth Irons was lying. His own writings proved that.

"So…the Witchblade isn't dangerous?" surmised Tucker.

"I wouldn't say that, but it has to obey the wielder," said Jazz, "Joan of Arc wasn't driven mad by it. She let it go! Irons is trying to trick Sam to do the same!"

"Oh man," said Tucker, rubbing his head, "If it weren't such a smart plan I might be shocked."

"Save it for later!" said Jazz as she closed the book, "Call Danny and tell him Irons is lying! He has to stop him before it's too late!"

* * *

**Up next: The truth comes out and the fight over the Witchblade comes to a head.**


	8. The Truth Hurts

**The Wielder  
Chapter 8: The Truth Hurts**

* * *

**Amity Park Plaza Hotel – Pent House **

The machine was almost ready. Kenneth Irons was ready to separate the Witchblade from its wielder. All he needed was for Vlad's equipment to work and if he knew what was good for him he had calibrated this perfectly. According to the readout everything was set. He double checked just in case Vlad tweaked something he shouldn't have. Chances were he was still snooping around, keeping his distance so that he didn't set off Danny's ghost sense. He hoped he was watching because once he had the Witchblade, he would know real power.

"Are you ready, Miss Manson?" said Kenneth as he put on the gauntlet.

"As I'll ever be," she said anxiously.

She cast Danny one last look. He nodded, letting her know he was still there for her. He was still holding out for Jazz and Tucker, but it seemed too late now. If the Witchblade was dangerous, Sam wanted it off before it started doing damage. She couldn't afford to wait. It could cost her everything.

"Relax, my dear," he told her, "It'll all be over soon."

Irons pushed a button on the glove, causing it to light up as energy surged through the cables and into the complex circuitry. Sam and Danny could only speculate what was happening. They were forced to place all their trust in this stranger who seemed shady at best. But if it all worked out it wouldn't matter. Only one thing could stop it now.

Suddenly, Danny's phone started ringing, which quickly drew the attention of Kenneth and Ian.

"Uh…sorry," he said with a sheepish grin, "Hold on, I should get this."

"Turn it off," said Kenneth sternly, "I don't want any interruptions."

"I'll just take it outside," he said, putting on a casual tone "I'll be right back, Sam. I promise."

Sam didn't say anything. She couldn't run the risk of making Kenneth more suspicious than he already was. But even that wasn't enough for him to look at the boy oddly and turn to Ian.

"Ian, go with him…just in case," ordered Irons.

He got the subtext of his tone and followed Danny out into the hall. Danny suppressed a groan as he looked at his phone, trying to hide it from the prying eyes of Ian Nottingham. As he hoped, it was from Tucker. His heart jumped. Maybe they found something. But even if they did, he couldn't let Ian or Kenneth know. He had to be tactful about it.

Once out in the hallway, he turned towards Ian and flashed and innocent looking smile.

"Heh…it's my mom. Go figure," he said, trying to sound convincing.

Ian didn't crack a smile. He just folded his arms and stared at the boy intently as he put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

Over the line, he heard a frantic tone.

"_Danny! What took you, man? Is it too late?!"_

"Uh…no, of course not. Why do you ask?" he said, sweat already dripping down the side of his head.

Tucker's expression shifted. He wasn't sure what was going on so he just came out with it.

"_You were right, Danny! Ian was lying! The Witchblade doesn't drive the wielder insane! The wielder controls the power! Irons said it himself in his own book! Jazz and I are already on our way, but whatever he's doing don't let him! You got that? Don't let him!"_

Danny swallowed the lump in his throat. He was tempted to just go ghost and run back inside and beat the crap out of Kenneth Irons for lying to them. But he couldn't risk it with Ian standing right there. So he had to be put on an Oscar-worthy performance.

"Sure mom, I can pick some up on the way home. Love you too. Bye."

Over the line, Tucker looked at his phone strangely. Danny must have been in a tight spot because there was no way he would say something that lame unless it was absolutely necessary.

"You better step on it, Jazz," said Tucker, "I have a feeling Danny and Sam are in a heck of a bind!"

"On it!" said Jazz in a determined tone.

She kicked the Fenton Assault Vehicle into overdrive, weaving through traffic and driving at speeds that would make her father proud. The Amity Park Plaza Hotel was a ways away. Hopefully Danny could handle himself there and save Sam before she made a big mistake.

His biggest challenge, however, was blocking his path back inside. Upon closing his phone, Ian stared at the boy strangely. He could see the sweat rolling down his face. It was a clear sign, but what it could mean for a 14-year-old boy who had ghost powers was anybody's guess.

"Are you okay, boy?" said Ian, holding back his bemusement.

"I'm fine…just thirsty," he lied, "You mind if we make a trip to the vending machine? I could really go for a soda."

Ian rolled his eyes and led him down the hall to where the machines were. His eyes never left him, something that was not lost on Danny. He got the feeling that this guy had more skills than he let on. His first fight with him was proof enough of that. He needed to find a way to get him to flinch. He only needed one second to make his move. He had to make it quick though. There was no telling how much longer Sam could stall.

'_Hang on, Sam.'_

Back inside the pent house, the ecto-draining glove was all powered up and ready to go. Sam stood nervously before the older man, still holding out for word from Danny to not go through with this. The voice of the Witchblade was yelling at her not to go through with this, but her conscious was just as forceful in telling her not to risk it. The lives of her friends and family were at stake here.

"Hold out your hand," said Kenneth.

Sam took a deep breath and formed the gauntlet over her hand. Taking one last look at the Witchblade, she swallowed her nervousness and held out her arm.

"Now try and relax, Miss Manson," he told her, "This may be a bit uncomfortable, but rest assured it'll all work out for the better."

While Kenneth Irons was about to get what he spent a lifetime searching for, Danny was at the vending machine with Ian. He tried to keep his cool, making it look like nothing was amiss. He searched his pockets, pretending to look for change. He knew he was wasting precious time, but he couldn't lead Ian on. So he would have to use the same tactic Irons used against them and put on a little deception.

"Oh darn," said Danny, "I'm short on cash. You got any spare change or bills? I'm dying for a soda."

Ian rolled his eyes again. Nothing would have made him happier than impaling this kid on his sword, but his master told him to keep up the charade until he was told otherwise. So like a good henchman, he reached into his pockets and pulled out his wallet. When he did this, Danny made his move and fired a concentrated ghost ray right into his chest.

"Augh!" he yelled as he rammed into another snack machine.

"On second thought, keep the change!" taunted Danny, "Going ghost!"

"You little…"

But Ian was too late. Danny went intangible and flew back into the pent house where he was just in time to see Kenneth Irons about to take the Witchblade from Sam. Time slowed down as the eccentric billionaire had his life's work right in front of him. But Danny wouldn't let him hurt his best friend just so he could steal this ancient power.

"Sam!" he exclaimed, "Don't do it! It's a trap! Irons is…"

But before he could finish, a pinkish ghost ray shot out from below and knocked Danny back. And from the floor, Vlad flew up in full Plasmius mode.

"Danny!" exclaimed Sam.

"Oh no you don't!" said Irons.

Before she could get away, he grabbed her arm and the Witchblade with it. Immediately, the gauntlet reacted and the process began.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" cried Sam.

"YEEEEEESSSSSSSS! AT LAST!"

"NO!" exclaimed Danny.

Sparks flew as green and yellow burst of energy arced from the glove and into Sam. She fell to her knees, her every nerve burning as though the strength was being sucked right out of her. Even the Witchblade wailed as if it were in pain. It was coming to life as the ecto-energy surged through it, drawing its power from her and into Kenneth. The living weapon shifted, forming the full-bodied armor over Sam's body as it was forced into activity. Only this time it didn't stop once it covered her. It continued onto Kenneth, consuming his arm and spreading all over his body.

"Sam…" gasped Danny as he watched her pained expression.

"Oh don't be so melodramatic," said Vlad with a grin, "Everything has been taken care of."

"Plasmius!" said Danny, seething with anger, "I should have known you'd team up with a slime-ball like Irons!"

"I assure you it's not out of mutual admiration," said Plasmius, "But I will not allow you to get in the way! I've come too far to have you ruin it!"

"Too bad," quipped Danny, "Because when I'm through with you, you'll wish you stayed a solo-act!"

Danny took to the air and flew towards Vlad at ramming speed. He countered with a ghost shield, holding his ground while Kenneth continued the draining process. The impact knocked Vlad back only a bit, but Danny kept at it with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. Vlad tried to fire back, but he was able to dodge and counter with a round of ghost rays of his own. This knocked Vlad back even further, but he landed on his feet and kept himself between Danny and the machine. He just needed to buy time.

"Errrrrrr! Get out of my way!" he grunted as he hit Vlad with another ghost ray.

Vlad was actually struggling to hold him off. Danny really was determined to save that girl. That crush he had on her must have been stronger than he thought. Needing reinforcements, he duplicated his form three times and surrounded the young boy. He couldn't allow him to get any closer or risk disrupting everything.

"Stop fighting, Daniel! You'll only make things worse!" said Plasmius strongly.

"Yeah…for you!" he quipped.

Danny closed his eyes and concentrated his power. If Vlad was this determined to help Kenneth Irons he would go down with him. His eyes flashed blue and his hands started glowing. Then with a determined grunt, he fired four bursts of ice beams and froze Vlad and his clone forms. While they were frozen, Danny charged up a ghost ray and fired a blast that shattered every one of them except the true Vlad, who was sent flying back instead in a hail of broken ice.

"Augh!" he grunted.

Now that Vlad was down for the count, Danny turned his attention to Sam. But from the looks of it, he was too late. Witchblade-like armor had already coated his entire body. Only his face was uncovered now. And Sam was looking pretty weak. Her body was going limp and her energy was training fast.

"Yes! YES! I feel it! The power of the Witchblade is finally mine!" said Kenneth in triumph.

"You want power? Try this on for size!"

Danny charged up and fired a concentrated ghost ray, but Kenneth just formed a shield on his arm and swatted it right back at him. It caught Danny off guard and hit him point blank, knocking him back against the adjacent wall.

"You're too late, ghost boy!" he taunted, "I've waited too long for this moment to let a couple of punk teenagers stop me now!"

"You…bastard!" grunted Sam as she was continually drained.

"No use fighting it now, girl! Let me have what is rightfully mine!"

Now Sam knew why the Witchblade kept yelling at her not to do this. Next time, she would surely listen. But at the rate they were going, there might not be a next time. Her energy was being drained fast. The world around her was spinning. Kenneth wasn't just draining the Witchblade from her. He was draining the life out of her. Danny watched in horror as Sam looked weaker and weaker. She tried to resist, but it was no use. The armor of the Witchblade that was still on her body started to falter while the armor on Kenneth's body looked stronger.

He was on the brink of attaining this ancient power. He was about half-way there, nearing the point of no return. Then suddenly, the ecto-gauntlet sparked and all the machines went dead. An error message then appeared on screen.

"Warning: low power. Shutdown imminent."

"What?!" exclaimed Kenneth, "No! Not now! It's only halfway done! Nooooo!"

The draining process abruptly ceased, causing Kenneth to drop Sam. He then keeled over as the sparks in the gauntlet began burning his arm with a pulse of shocks. He tried to grab Sam again, but the shocks were too painful and he was forced to remove the gauntlet.

He noticed Sam was still in full Witchblade mode. Only half the power had been drained. It left him feeling incomplete. The machine worked, but only to a point. That left only one culprit in his mind.

"Masters!" he bellowed, "What the hell did you do?!"

"Nothing you shouldn't have expected from me, Kenneth," said Vlad, groaning as he picked himself up, "I said the machine works. I never said I provided it enough power to complete the process."

"You son-of-a…"

"Oh come now, Kenneth. Did you really think I was going to give you everything you wanted and expect all you promised in return? Honestly, how dumb do you think I am? And Daniel, don't answer that question."

Danny, who also struggled to pick himself up, noticed what was going on and was intrigued. Kenneth looked pissed, but his rage was now focused on Plasmius. He used this as his opportunity to fly over and get Sam.

"You're making a big mistake, Plasmius!" said Kenneth menacingly, "Just because I have half the Witchblade doesn't mean I'm not strong enough to make you suffer!"

"You'll do no such thing!" said Vlad strongly, "I'm the only one with the technology you need to finish the process. And I'll still hold up my end of the bargain…with a little incentive of course."

Kenneth's eyes burned with rage at Vlad. He dared to come between him and his ultimate dream when he was on the brink of success. He should have known better, but at this point he had no desire to make another deal.

Suddenly, the expression on his face shifted. His rage turned to a smug grin and Vlad was caught off guard.

"Forgetting something?" he said snidely.

Before Vlad could react, a concentrated yellow beam shot out from the other end of the room and hit him head on. It sent him flying back in a world of hurt, but before he could get up Ian Nottingham, now recovered from Danny's earlier trickery, pounced on top of him and placed the glowing blade at his neck.

"This sword is specially crafted to affect your kind," said Ian, "You'd best do as my master says or I'm going to carve you up like a steak!"

"Oh butternuts…" said Vlad weakly.

Irons had truly lost it now. He was willing to kill him if he didn't do what he wanted and no reward was good to him if it left him dead. Now not only did Kenneth have the menacing power of the Witchblade, but Ian Nottingham had that sword of his. He was in quite a bind with only two ways out and one was in a body bag.

While Ian held Vlad at sword-point, Danny helped Sam up. She seemed to be getting her energy back. Even at half strength, the Witchblade protected her and she still felt the power within. But the weapon didn't like being separated. It yearned to be whole again. It simply could not allow this madman to use it for his own selfish gains.

"We better get out of here, Sam," urged Danny, "Let two evil 'masterminds' work this out."

"No…I can't," she said strongly, "Not without the other half of the Witchblade!"

"Sam, let it go! We have to…"

"You don't understand, Danny. I'm the true wielder. It's not only my job to use the Witchblade…it's my job to protect it! I can't let him have it! Now are you going to help me get it back or am I going to have to do this myself?"

She looked serious. Even at half-strength, nothing was going to keep her from taking the fight to Irons. He tricked her and tried to use her. There was no way she was going to let it go unpunished. She owed the Witchblade that much. And since they were already outnumbered, she needed Danny and he wasn't about to let her go it alone. He made her a promise after all.

"Are you sure you're okay to fight?" he asked her.

Sam responded by forming a large broad-sword with the Witchblade.

"Half-strength is better than none," she said.

"Good enough for me!"

Danny and Sam sprang into action. Sam took aim at Kenneth and Danny took aim at Ian. Sam knocked Irons off his feet by firing a concentrated blast through her sword. Danny followed with a powerful ghost ray that hit Ian in the shoulder, knocking him off Vlad and sending him tumbling.

"Hey, nobody beats up on Vlad but me!" he said.

"Augh! Little freak!" grunted Ian, "You're mine!"

Ian shot up from the floor and lunged at Danny, his sword glowing with intent. He slashed relentlessly at the young teen who had been nothing but an annoyance since the beginning, but the nimble teen went invisible and dodged his blows with ease. This only made Ian more angry as he started relentlessly thrashing about, looking to connect with anything.

Over with Kenneth, he was seething with anger as he recovered from Sam's blast. It still packed quite a punch, which wouldn't have bothered him quite as much if it hadn't come from some punk teenage girl. She dared to deny him the power he desired. She was going to learn that there was a price to be paid for going up against him.

"You're out of your league, little girl!" said Irons angrily, "Do you really think you can take me?"

"You're a deranged madman who thinks he can just up and take anything he wants and I'm the girl the Witchblade chose. So yeah! I can take you!"

"Fool…you still have no idea who you're dealing with!"

"This coming from a guy who wants a weapon made specifically for women," Sam taunted with a grin, "Honestly, don't you find that a wee bit telling?"

"Errrrrrrrrr! Give me my Witchblade!" he bellowed.

Forming a sword of his own, Irons lunged at Sam in full force. Their blades clashed in a hail of sparks, the whim of the wielder and a madman hinging on the fate of an ancient relic. Kenneth may be bigger and stronger, but Sam was nimble and determined. Plus, the Witchblade was pushing her hard. It wanted her to overcome this madman, but it could only do so much. It was up to her to subdue this madman and get its other half back.

While this was going on, Vlad pulled himself up. He watched over the scene before him, sensing it was quickly getting out of hand. He looked over at his machines and then back at Irons. If that man had no intention of holding up his end of the bargain then there was no reason to help him. He briefly contemplated staying to help, but given the kind of powers at work here it just wasn't worth the risk. Besides, this was more Danny's thing anyways.

"Well this sure has been fun, old friend, but I must be going now," said Vlad as he went intangible and flew out the window, "Have fun with your new friends! Oh and Daniel, tell Maddie I said hi."

"Oh man, I so did not need to hear that," groaned Danny, who was still struggling with Ian.

"Vlad you coward get back here!" yelled Kenneth, briefly turning away from Sam.

But that proved to be a mistake as Sam hit him with a solid uppercut coupled with a kick.

"Coward? Who do you think you're talking to Mr. I-send-crazy-sword-wielding-psychos-to-do-my-dirty-work?" taunted Sam, "Face it, Irons. You're every bit the fruit loop Vlad is!"

"Will you shut up already?!" scolded Kenneth as he countered with a sword slash of his own.

"What? And spoil the fun? I thought billionaires liked to have fun! How does it cost to stay in a pent house like this anyways? Half the average salary?"

Kenneth grunted as Sam repeatedly blocked his blows. She was feisty for a girl her age. The Witchblade must be aiding her. But that mouth of hers was becoming just as great a nuisance.

"You know I was just going to take the Witchblade and let you live, Miss Manson. But just for that, I'll see to it that you and your little boyfriend are nothing more but stains on my carpet!"

Irons was through playing games. It was time to step it up and finish this. If Sam wouldn't give the Witchblade to him willingly then she would carve it off her flesh. Using his size and strength to his advantage, Kenneth Irons charged Sam and forced her onto the defensive. Armor tendrils shot out from his back and upper body, forcing Sam to form a shield on her arm to block them along with his sword slashes. He didn't let up, forcing her back until she was against a wall. And to keep her from escaping, he drove the tendrils into the wall around her to cut off her escape. He then thrust his sword towards her heart, forcing her to block it. Their weapons clashed, leaving them in a bitter stalemate.

"Face it, child…you're too weak for the Witchblade!" said Kenneth, "Just look at past wielders. Do you really think you, a punk girl from Amity Park, can live up to their names and their place in history?"

"What do you know about history?" grunted Sam.

"I know that only the strong leave their mark. You think I'm mad. But I know the Witchblade! I understand it! I can use it to set history on the right course! It is my destiny! My father believed it and so do I!"

"You know what I believe?" said Sam, using all her strength to hold Irons back, "I believe you're not just mad…you're psychotic!"

Irons wouldn't let up, his blade inching towards Sam's neck. Danny, who was still dodging Ian's slashes, saw this and tried rushing to his friend's aid. But Ian wasn't going to make it easy on him.

"Hang on, Sam!" urged Danny, "I'll be right there! Just give me a minute to take care of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Crazy!"

"I'd worry more about your own well-being if I were you," said Ian, gripping his sword in determination.

"Glad you're not me!"

Danny ducked another slash and fired an ice beam at Ian's legs, freezing his feet to the floor. He tried to break free, but Danny beat him to the punch and delivered a solid blow to the chest with a ghost ray. This freed him from the ice and also seemed to knock him out. Ian was a tough fighter, but he was only human. There was no way he was getting up from that for at least a half hour.

"Sleep tight, Nottingham. Now to help, Sam!"

Danny turned his attention over towards his friend. Sam was losing ground on Irons and in desperate need of help. He was on the verge of overpowering her. He was about to fly over to aid her. Then suddenly, he felt a stabbing pain in his torso.

"Augh!"

"Danny?" gasped Sam upon hearing his cries.

She turned towards him and to her horror she saw the glowing blade of Ian Nottingham sticking out through his body. Danny bore a look of shock and pain. His mind struggled to process what was going on. Then he looked down at the sword sticking out of him and realized what had happened.

"You fought valiantly, Ghost Boy," said Ian, "But your time is up."

"No…" he gasped.

Ian then twisted the blade, causing Danny's face to contort in agony. He then pulled it out, causing a gush of greenish ectoplasm to cascade out. Danny tried to cover it with his hands, but it was too much. He keeled over, reverting back to his human form. There the wound turned from green to red, the ectoplasm replaced with blood. Fear quickly set in. Everything around him was spinning. He coughed up a round of blood, his pained expression gazing towards Sam in desperation.

"Sam…" he choked.

It was a grizzly sight. Sam's eyes widened with horror as she watched her best friend fall to the floor in a bloody heap. Despite the blow he took, Ian shot up and was able to deliver the killing blow. Where Skulker, Vortex, and the Ghost King failed this man had succeeded. And there was not a hint of remorse. It stirred a fire within Samantha Manson like no other.

"Danny…nooooooooo!" she cried in anguish.

"Fear not," said Ian, "You'll be joining him soon."

"LIKE HELL!"

Her eyes flashed bright yellow, the power of the Witchblade burning within. A new wave of strength consumed her and she shoved Kenneth off her. He was about to counter, but then he was hit by a powerful energy blast she conjured from her sword. And with her rage fueling her, it was much more powerful than he expected.

"Auuuuuuggghhh!" howled Irons.

His shield failed him and he was knocked against Vlad's machines, shattering them in a hail of metal and glass. He slowly picked himself up only to see Sam's glowing eyes as she gripped her sword in preparation for a final assault. But before she could attack, Ian Nottingham came to his master's aid.

"I'm coming, master!" yelled Ian, his sword still dripping with Danny's blood.

"Ian wait!" urged Kenneth.

But his words fell on deaf ears as Ian charged Sam, ignoring the rage in her eyes. She was so mad she didn't even flinch. Looking into the eyes of the man who heartlessly stabbed Danny, she had only vengeance on her mind. And the Witchblade would help her. Before he even got in attack distance, six tendrils shot out from her back and enveloped the imposing man. They wrapped around his arms and legs and lifted him off the floor, causing him to drop his sword.

"Murderer!" she yelled, holding her sword up to his neck.

"What are you going to do, kill me?" scoffed Ian, "You're just a child. You don't have the guts to kill!"

Sam grit her teeth in anger. As much as she wanted to impale this bastard the way he impaled Danny, he was right. She wasn't a killer. If she killed him she would be just like him. The Witchblade urged her to finish him off. It was so tempting with the image of Danny's pained face now seared in her mind. But that wasn't her.

"You're right," she said coldly, "I won't kill you."

Ian cast a snide grin. But she wasn't done.

"The fall will do that for me!"

Then to his shock, Sam threw him with all her Witchblade strength across the room and out the window, sending him falling over 20 stories onto the hard pavement below. His frantic cries echoed from outside, but after what he did to Danny she could care less.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

The only sound that followed was a hard thud. Even Kenneth was surprised. He didn't think she had it in her. But Ian killing Danny sent her over the edge. Now she set her sights on him. Even with only half the Witchblade, she was going to make him pay. But he remained undaunted.

"Now it's your turn, Irons!" spat Sam, tears forming in her eyes, "Ian was your goon! You sent him after us! You're just as much a killer as he is!"

"Cry me a river," said an undaunted Kenneth, "Many have fallen at the hands of the Witchblade. Why weep over just another boy?"

"Danny Fenton was more than just a boy! He was my friend!"

Sam let out a war cry as she charged the eccentric billionaire and began a passionate assault. Kenneth formed another shield, but it was no match for her rage. The tendrils she used to toss Ian out the window were still drawn and her sword was charged with energy. He felt each strike, forcing him on the defensive. He tried to form tendrils as well to fight back, but they were quickly snapped or cut by Sam's blows. Kenneth grunted in pain each time, but kept up his defenses. Soon, however, he began to weaken.

Sam kept crying out in anguish with each blow she delivered, her anger over what happened to Danny pushing her beyond all her limits. The living weapon reacted, forming bigger and stronger armor and amplifying each blow from her sword. Soon Kenneth was the one against the wall. He tried to push his way out, but Sam wouldn't give him the chance this time. She delivered a solid kick to the gut followed by an energy blast that shattered his shield.

"Augh! You little…" he grunted.

"SHUT UP!" yelled Sam.

Forgoing her sword, Sam held him in place with her tendrils and began beating him relentlessly with her fists. She hit much harder than Kenneth expected, fueled by both the Witchblade and her rage. She punched and kicked him repeatedly, refusing to let up. Soon his face was a bloody mess and the Witchblade armor around him was weakening. When he started going limp, she grabbed him by the neck and kept punching. She didn't care if he was defeated. She wasn't going to stop. He had to pay for his crimes.

"You…killed…Danny! You…killed….my…best…friend!" yelled Sam in between punches, "He had a family! Friends! People who loved him! But that doesn't mean anything to you, does it?! You're just a cold-hearted man out for power! You don't deserve the Witchblade! You don't even deserve to live!"

"Ack!" he choked, "Go ahead…do it. It won't bring him back."

Sam's grip on his neck tightened. She finally stopped her assault and took in the pathetic sight before her. Kenneth Irons was a mess. His face was bloodied, his Witchblade armor was weakened, and his body was limp. And yet he still bore no remorse for what he had done. It was evil worst than any ghost she had ever faced. Looking down at the Witchblade on her arm and the defeated Kenneth Irons, she briefly debated what to do. Part of her wanted to just kill him, but that wasn't her. Something else had to be done.

Then she heard the voice of the Witchblade in her head. It was no longer telling her to just kill him. Instead, it gave her another option. But to do so would require her to accept what she had been struggling with since the beginning. She, Samantha Manson, was the wielder of the Witchblade. Controlling this power was her responsibility and her burden. Kenneth Irons thought she was unworthy. A part of her might have agreed with him before, but not anymore. It was time to set things right.

"You're right…it won't," said Sam through her anguish, "But there's more than one way to make you pay!"

The jewel atop the Witchblade on her arm started glowing bright red. She then grasped Kenneth by the arm and closed her eyes, concentrating on the power within just as Frostbite had trained her. The power flowed through her, reacting to the power that Kenneth had taken from her. And using her rightful role as a wielder, she began drawing it out of him.

"What are you doing?!" exclaimed Irons, "No! Stop it! Noooooooooooooooo!"

A red hue enveloped his body as ever limb went ridged and the power he worked so hard to obtain left him. Piece-by-piece, his armor was re-absorbed by Sam. With every inch reclaimed, it left a trail of badly scarred flesh. The pain was intense. Kenneth Irons, a man used to gaining power, was losing it fast and it hurt more than anything he had ever experienced. When the final piece of armor was gone, all that was left was the frail nude form of a defeated man.

But Sam didn't stop with the armor. She continued draining, taking away the piece of energy that had been imparted on Kenneth all those years ago when he first tried to merge with the Witchblade. The marks of the runes on his arms flashed briefly, but were soon drained of their power as well. Now nothing was left but the flesh of a man who had defied the ages. And without the power he usurped all those years ago, the years finally caught up to him.

Sam let go of his hand and watched as his body collapsed. Before her eyes, he aged eighty years in the span of a few seconds. His skin wrinkled, his hair fell out, and his bones failed him. And with his last ounce of strength he reached up to her, the power he obsessed over still so close yet so far.

"Witchblade…" gasped Kenneth weakly.

"Will never be yours," said Sam, finishing his final words for him.

The withered man let out a weak cough as his last breath escaped him. His pursuit of the Witchblade spanned over a lifetime, but it had finally come to a bitter end. The legacy of Kenneth Irons was officially over. The Witchblade had its wielder and the next step in its long, eventful life could begin.

The same, however, could not be said for Danny Phantom.

"Danny…" said Sam, turning away form Kenneth and towards her friend.

Still burning with anguish, she ran over to the motionless body of her friend. Along the way she recalled the Witchblade and reverted back to her normal clothes, which were tattered and torn from everything that had happened. Once at his side, she fell to her knees and took the lifeless body in her arms. The wound in his torso was even worse than she expected. The sword had gone right through him, leaving a gushing wound that left him in a pool of his own blood. She felt around for any signs of life, but there were none. Danny's body had gone cold and stiff.

Every sign said he was dead. But he couldn't be dead. He was just a kid. He had survived some of the worst ghost attacks in the world. He couldn't die like this, stabbed in the back by some madman. He had so much to live for. He had a family who loved him and friends who cared about him. But what hurt most was that he died before she could tell him how she felt. Now he would never know. And all Sam could do now was hold him and cry.

"Danny…please…don't leave me. I…I never got to tell you. I never got to let you know how…how I felt. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! Please…come back to me…come back."

* * *

**Up next: Is this the end of Danny Phantom? Or is it already too late?**


	9. Redemption

**The Wielder  
Chapter 9: Redemption**

* * *

**Amity Park Plaza Hotel – Pent House **

Sam Manson had never felt so lost before in her life. In her arms lay the lifeless body of her best friend, Danny Fenton. He was stabbed by a heartless henchmen of Kenneth Irons, who lied to her just so he could steal the Witchblade. It was her fault she trusted him. It was her fault Danny chose to follow her. And it was her fault he died fighting for her.

Tears streamed down the side of her face as she sobbed endlessly. She couldn't live with this kind of guilt. Danny was more than just a friend. He saved her more times than she could count. Even before she ever encountered the Witchblade he was always there for her, constantly putting his life on the line. Some didn't even appreciate his sacrifice. His own parents wanted to dissect him. And even when she attained a power that helped her defend herself, he kept fighting for her. Now he was gone.

"I'm sorry, Danny," sobbed Sam, "I'm so sorry. Please…it can't end like this. I still have to tell you that…that I love you."

But she got no response. There was only cold silence. Her heart was literally breaking. She was not only losing the boy she loved, she was losing her best friend. What was she going to tell his parents? How would they react if they learned he died because of her? What about Tucker? How would he take it?

So many thoughts ran through Sam's mind as she broke down over the body of her dead friend. She couldn't bear the thought of waking up tomorrow knowing that she would never see Danny again. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were going to be a team. Maybe they could be a little more than that. But none of that seemed possible now. It was over because she chose to trust a madman.

Then she remembered something. Tearing her eyes away from Danny's lifeless body, she looked down at the Witchblade. It was still in gauntlet form, covering her arm. It now had all its power back after draining it from Kenneth Irons. She noticed how the blows he inflicted on her had healed quickly. The same thing happened the first day she woke up with the Witchblade and discovered it had healed the injuries she sustained during that fight with Skulker. That led her to wonder. If the Witchblade was capable of healing her then would it be possible to heal someone else?

Frostbite never mentioned a power like this when he trained her. But then again he said many times that his information on the Witchblade was sketchy at best. But if there was even a slim chance that it might be true, it was still worth trying. Looking at the wound on Danny's torso and the Witchblade on her arm, she swallowed her sorrow and took a deep breath.

"I know we've had our differences," she said to the ancient relic, "But I need you…he needs you."

Closing her eyes, Sam placed the Witchblade over Danny's body. She took deep breaths, concentrating the energy within the way Frostbite had trained her. The Witchblade kept talking to her, guiding her as she took hold of this power that had chosen her. She grit her teeth in determination, putting every ounce of effort into this one act. Danny always pushed himself beyond his limits to save her. It was high time she returned the favor.

The gauntlet began glowing in a bright yellow hue. Sam grunted as she felt the power surge through her, but remained focused as she held her hand over Danny's wound. Soon, a halo surrounded her body and his. The energy was concentrated around the wound, following the whim of the wielder. At one point her hand started shaking. She could feel the power flowing through her. It just had to be enough to save him.

"Please Danny…come back to me!"

Sam let out a determined grunt as the healing power of the Witchblade was channeled into Danny. Suddenly, the bloody flesh around the stab wound mended itself. Color returned to Danny's pale skin. The brightness of the halo intensified. Then in a final burst, she heard a sharp gasp.

"Hnn…Sam?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She let out a tired sigh as she stopped the process, looking down at the body that was still cradled in her arms. His shirt still had a hole in it, but the wound was gone and he was breathing again. Then he opened his eyes and saw her.

"Am I dead?" he said weakly.

"Danny! You're alive!" exclaimed Sam.

Tears of sorrow turned to tears of joy as Sam threw her arms around Danny and hugged him. At first he was overwhelmed. He debated briefly whether or not he really was dead. But upon feeling her warm embrace, he realized the truth.

"Sam…is everything okay?" said Danny, still very confused.

"Yeah…everything's great," she said with another sob.

What happened next caught Danny completely off guard. Sam, the girl he had been crushing on for years, cradled his face and kissed him. This time it wasn't just another fake-out make-out. This was a real, honest gesture of affection. At first he wasn't sure how to respond, but soon found himself kissing back. He still wasn't quite sure what was going on, but at this point he could care less.

Sam was acting on pure feeling. She had waited so long for this moment and she almost lost him because of it. If this didn't confirm what she long suspected about the bond between her and Danny, nothing would. She came so close to never getting a chance to let him know how she felt. Now he knew.

When they parted, it took a moment for them to process what had just happened. Sam was too happy to be embarrassed, but Danny still had that goofy look on his face.

"Wow…" said Danny in a daze, "Are you sure I'm not dead?"

"Want me to whack you upside the head or are you just going to trust me?" joked Sam with a warm smile.

"I'll…take your word for it," he said, smiling back, "I'm guessing you and the Witchblade beat Irons to a pulp."

"Let's just say he paid the price he should have paid long ago. But to hell with him. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Of course," said Danny warmly, "I promised, remember?"

Sam smiled and blushed. Even in the face of death, Danny Fenton was the same hero she grew to know and love. He always kept his promises, especially the ones he made to her. For all the mistakes she made during this affair, it was comforting to know he never left her side. And if he was to stay true to his promise, he would always be there.

Lost in a daze, their faces drifted closer towards another kiss. But just when their lips made contact, the door to the pent house burst open and Jazz and Tucker stormed in.

"Danny! Sam! Are you guys okay?" exclaimed Jazz, bursting in with a Fenton ghost weapon in hand.

Danny and Sam abruptly parted, smiling sheepishly as they helped each other up. This was not lost on Tucker, who found them still holding hands and looking at each other with that look he had come to recognize so easily. Even given the urgent circumstances, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Uh… we interrupting something?" he joked.

"Nice to see you too, Tucker," grinned Danny.

"Whoa, what happened here?" said Jazz as she looked around at the damage.

"I'm guessing we missed the fight," said Tucker, "Housekeeping is sure going to have their hands full with this."

"You don't know the half of it," said Sam in an exasperated tone.

Everything was still sinking in, but the battle was over. As they surveyed the damage, Jazz came across the boney remains of Kenneth Irons. By now his body had been reduced to a mummified skeleton. She covered her mouth and gagged when she saw it.

"Oh my gosh! Is that…"

"Yep," affirmed Sam bitterly, "Turned out Irons had his share of secrets."

"He looks better this way anyways," commented Danny, "Why do you think he was so obsessed with the Witchblade?"

"I don't know," sighed Sam, "All I heard was him ranting about how he could use the power better than me and set history on the right course."

"Sounds like a classic messiah complex," said Jazz, always the psychology buff, "People can drive themselves crazy thinking they're part of something bigger than themselves. Either he didn't want to accept it or he just couldn't handle it."

"Probably both," said Sam distantly, "He was right about one thing though. The Witchblade is a powerful weapon. Guess it's my responsibility to take care of it now."

"Think you're up to it?" asked Tucker.

"It chose me, didn't it? Guess I'll just have to trust it."

"I think it made the right choice," said Danny, giving her hand a firm squeeze.

Sam smiled and Danny smiled back. There was no getting around it now. She and the Witchblade were a part of each other. There was still a lot about it she didn't understand, but over time she would learn. For now, though, she was ready to go home.

* * *

**Fenton Works – The Next Morning**

Upon leaving the hotel, they drove back home in Jazz's car. They were all exhausted. Sam and Tucker spent the night at Danny's house. When they got back they went straight to sleep and slept in until late in the morning. Halfway through the night when Tucker was fast asleep, Sam woke up and slipped into Danny's bed. There they cuddled, holding each other through the night after an emotional day. They had come so close to losing each other. Now they were determined not to hide their feelings anymore. They still didn't talk about the kiss, but they didn't have to. There would be plenty of time to work the little things out later.

When they finally woke up, they felt happy and refreshed. Tucker made another comment about them getting sappy with each other, but that only earned him a little ghost ray to the butt and a pinch from the Witchblade. He still got a laugh out of it though. If Danny and Sam were going to be an item now, he would have plenty of opportunities poke fun at them. Except now he was kind of feeling left out. Maybe he should look into getting a girlfriend or something.

Downstairs, Danny's mom had prepared a stack of pancakes for breakfast. Jack had already eaten half and Jazz wasn't too hungry. She spent more time reading her book, which she had to catch up on after last night's excursion.

"Morning hun," she greeted, "You and your friends sleep well?"

"Yeah, I'd say so," said Danny with a yawn.

"I'll bet," snickered Tucker, earning him a scold from Sam.

"Well I hope you're hungry! I made enough buttermilk pancakes for everybody."

"Better get them while their hot!" said Jack as he wolfed down another helping.

"Well…almost everybody," she corrected.

Danny rolled his eyes while Sam and Tucker laughed. They decided to help themselves before Jack ate the whole stack. While they began to eat, Maddie walked over to the kitchen TV.

"Let's see what's in the news this morning," she said.

When she turned it on the first thing on screen was a shot of the Amity Park Plaza Hotel. Along the bottom of the screen there was a heading that read "Billionaire Found Dead In Pent House." It quickly caught the attention of Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz. But they remained quiet as they listened to the newscast.

"_To recap our top story, billionaire industrialist, Kenneth Irons, was found dead in his pent house earlier this morning. Authorities at this point are unsure of the cause of death, but Irons associate, Jack Estacado, said his death was the result of coronary heart failure. Police have yet to confirm Mr. Estacado's claims, but Mayor Vlad Masters has personally aided in the investigation. He issued his condolences and had this to say…"_

"_Mr. Irons death is tragic, no doubt. But I'm sure he would have wanted us to remember him and everything he stood for. That's why as his friend and associate, I will be personally archiving the Irons collection and re-distributing it to museums everywhere. I'm sure that's what he would have wanted."_

Danny and his friends cringed. If the Witchblade was just one of the artifacts Irons had in his collection, there was no telling what other kinds of super-powered relics he might have. And now that they were in Vlad's possession, he could reek all sorts of havoc. It was sure to make life for both Danny Phantom and the Witchblade very active.

"That's Vlad for you," commented Jack proudly, "Always thinking of others."

"That's for sure," said Danny, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Sam cast him a sympathetic look. While he dreaded over the kind of terror Plasmius would cause with that kind of ancient firepower, she reached under the table and took his hand. Her warm grip helped calm him down. It was a nice reminder that he wouldn't have to face these battles alone anymore. He had a super-powered girl by his side. It would make for some interesting fights, but after what they overcame last night Danny was sure there was nothing they couldn't overcome.

* * *

**Fenton Works Rooftop – Later That Day**

After breakfast Danny and Sam went up to the rooftop to share a quiet moment under the morning sun. It was amazing how beautiful the sunrise could be after facing death head on and coming out alive. It still messed with Danny knowing that he was really dead for a while. Even for someone who was half-ghost, it was a powerful experience. Sam was equally affected, having held her best friend's dead body in her arms. Since then she stayed close to him, refusing to leave his side until she told him how she felt.

Yet even after everything they had been through, it wasn't easy. Danny and Sam had been holding back for so long they didn't know where to begin. It wasn't like these feelings were new. They had been growing over the years and had only gotten stronger during their struggles against ghosts. Things were sure to change even more now that Sam was the wielder of the Witchblade. But one thing always stayed the same and that was each other.

"So…" said Danny distantly as he leaned over the roof.

"So…" repeated Sam in the same tone.

"Are we going to talk about it or what?"

"Define 'it.' Is it about the Witchblade? Or is about…you know?"

"Uh…the second one," said Danny awkwardly.

Sam's expression shifted to a look of sorrow. She held back a sob as memories of last night came rushing back. Tears formed in her eyes and she looked away, hugging her shoulders as she struggled to put what she was feeling into words.

"Danny…I nearly lost you last night. You nearly died in my arms. I…I can't even begin to describe the pain I felt at that moment. I was so scared. I thought…"

She stopped in mid-sentence, unable to finish her words. Danny placed a hand on her shoulder, which helped to sooth her emotional state.

"But I'm not dead," he said softly, "I'm still here. You saved me, remember?"

"But I wouldn't have had to if I had just listened," retorted Sam, "Everything about Irons spelled trouble. You warned me, the Witchblade warned me, everybody warned me! But I didn't listen! And because of that I nearly lost you."

"But you didn't."

"Enough with the buts! The point is…when I thought I lost you all I could think about was how I never told you how much you meant to me. You're more than just a friend to me Danny. You always have been. And I guess what I'm trying to say is…I'm in love with you."

Danny had been waiting a long time to hear those words. Sam had waited equally long to say them. He hesitated to say something in response. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. It was a lot harder than it was in dreams because this was the point he usually woke up. But this wasn't a dream. This was really happening.

"Wow…that came out weird, didn't it?" she said.

"What? No Sam, it's not that."

"Then why aren't you saying anything?" she asked anxiously.

"Because I honestly don't know what to say," said Danny, "I keep thinking I really am dead or this is some sort of dream or something."

"Danny…" said Sam, getting frustrated.

"I'm serious! You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this. I've gone over it again and again in my head. I've tried to approach it from every possible angle. And even after that I still don't know what to do."

"So why don't you just say it?"

"Okay, here goes…I'm in love with you too, Sam."

Another awkward silence followed. This wasn't going like either of them had planned. The movies made it out to be so easy. But this was totally different. They were just teenagers and here they were confessing their feelings for one another. It really messed with their minds. But now that they had come out with it, they felt better.

"Wow…that does come out weird," chuckled Danny.

"You're a boy who's half-ghost and I'm a girl who walks around with an ancient weapon on her arm. Weird is pretty much par for the course with us," said Sam, laughing as well.

"That's for sure. Think we can make it work? I mean…I'd like to try if you would."

"Don't know," she said, moving in closer to him, "Think I can manage as the Ghost Boy's girlfriend?"

"After last night, I think you can handle it. But…"

"Hey, what did I say about buts?"

"Right…sorry," said Danny with a goofy grin, "Anyway I can make it up to you?"

"Oh I can think of a few ways," said Sam playfully.

From there instincts took over and they met in another kiss. This time it wasn't awkward or sudden. This was real honest passion. It felt good. At last they had come clean. It nearly took one of them dying for them to get to this point, but it was worth it. Now the already crazy lives of Danny Phantom and Sam Manson were sure to different.

Suddenly, their tender moment was interrupted by a deafening noise.

"RRRRAAAAAAARRRRRR!"

Down below, a 30-foot three eyed grizzly-like monster with four arms, razor sharp claws, and shark-like teeth stormed across the street. From each hand, the creature shot out green ghost rays, causing widespread destruction and causing any nearby onlookers to flee in a panic. If Danny and Sam hadn't seen much stranger things, they might have actually been shocked. Instead, they cut their kiss short and prepared for battle.

"Duty calls," sighed Danny.

"So I've learned," said Sam, "Shall we?"

"Ladies first!" he grinned, "I'm going ghost!"

"I'm going Witchblade!"

Together, Danny and Sam leapt off the roof and into the fight. Their lives were entering a new phase together. They each had superpowers and they each fought to save Amity Park. Only now they were boyfriend and girlfriend. There was no telling what was in store for them next, but whatever they faced they would face it together.

* * *

**THE END**

**AN: I'm going to be honest with you, I was really discouraged by the lack of reviews. When people don't review, I don't feel the motivation to make the story better. If there's something about this fic that wasn't good, tell me! Seriously people, I need reviews to improve! Because of so little feedback I think this will be my last story in the Danny Phantom section. There's just no drive here. But I hope you liked the story anyways. I wish it were better, but when you don't get feedback you lose a little enthusiasm. But still, please take the time to review by sending me feedback via email or posting your comments on the fanfiction website. Thank you for reading and I wish you all the best.**


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